


The Flying Cloud, The Frosty Light

by ErinHoltzmann



Category: Cabin Pressure, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Conspiracy, Coup d'état, Crash Landing, Going into hiding, Long cargo flights, M/M, Roleplay, Secret Organizations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinHoltzmann/pseuds/ErinHoltzmann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin is on a job in Canada when a strange aeroplane crash-lands right in front of him and out climbs Khan Noonien Singh, an engineered soldier on the run from a secret organisation. Martin offers him a job at MJN Air to keep him safe from his pursuers, not quite sure why he does it, but knowing he's interested in Khan and his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elegance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rravenclaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rravenclaw/gifts).



> This was written as a Christmas present for my amazing girlfriend Hannah. Also, it's not finished, there's more where this one came from.
> 
>  
> 
> The title is taken from the poem "Ring Out, Wild Bells" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson:
> 
>  
> 
> _Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,_  
>  _The flying cloud, the frosty light;_  
>  _The year is dying in the night;_  
>  _Ring out, wild bells, and let him die._

Martin, despite his love for aeroplanes, had also always been a child dreaming about space. Like any kid, he had looked up at the night sky, asking himself if Earth really was the exception, the only planet in the universe able to give life a home. Whenever he had seen a shooting star rushing past, he had imagined it to be a spaceship travelling halfway across the galaxy on a secret mission.

When he had grown up, thinking about space became less and less important. Martin was busy trying to make a living, first through nightshifts at museums and warehouses, later by following his one true passion: being a pilot. His hectic and worried life didn’t give him much of a chance to wonder about what was really out there. Sometimes, when he was on a lone cargo flight somewhere above the North Atlantic and saw the stars glittering around him, he thought back to his care-free childhood days. But dreaming up stories about spaceships on secret missions had lost its magic.

Once, Douglas and he had had an argument concerning one of their games: who could name all planets of the solar system the fastest. Martin had argued Pluto counted in this listing, whereas Douglas had been convinced it wasn’t so. They had made a bet which Martin had lost, naturally. But this argument had led them to discuss space in general, and of course Douglas had teased him when Martin had told him about the fantasies he’d had in his childhood. Martin had never spoken of it again.

It was around Christmas when Martin was reminded of his dreams again. Carolyn had been making them work twice as hard during December, arguing they had to earn their holidays. Not to mention, Martin was twice as busy as the others because he accepted every job he got with his van, so he would be able to afford a nice Christmas. When Carolyn then announced they had picked up another job and were flying to Prince Albert, a town in the middle of Canada, one day before Christmas, Martin felt so exhausted he thought about calling in sick, but then decided Carolyn would make him fly anyway, even if he was on his deathbed, so he thought better of it and decided to muddle through.

The upside was it was a simple cargo flight, so he and Douglas were left in relative peace and quiet in the flight deck for most of the journey. The downside was it was a simple cargo flight, so Arthur had nothing better to do than to talk to them in the flight deck for most of the journey. Shortly before they reached their destination, however, Arthur fell asleep, so Martin was able to land the plane without having to listen to facts about Canada Arthur had picked up in an old magazine Carolyn had given him to keep him entertained.

In a spur of Christmas generosity, Carolyn had decided to let them stay in a hotel, which turned out to me a shabby motel next to the airport, but still better than most of the places they had to sleep in usually. It was still midday when they landed and the sun would be up for another half hour or so, so Martin decided not to head to the motel just yet. He needed rest from Douglas' games and Arthur’s fun facts.

Prince Albert wasn’t a welcoming town, at least not during winter. Most of it was covered in thick, white snow, and it was much too cold for Martin’s liking. He wasn’t used to low temperatures and couldn’t feel his toes after walking along a street for fifteen minutes.

Just when he thought about returning to the motel, the sun set and Martin was surprised by the sudden darkness. The streetlamps were shining a bit of light which was slightly enhanced by the snow, but the spaces between them were so dark it would have been easy for someone to murder Martin and get away with it.

Understandably, it took him much longer to walk back to the airport. What was worse, even, was that he had to cross a field which had no lighting at all. Martin wasn’t scared of the dark; he was scared of walking where he couldn’t see a thing and then falling into a hole or mine shaft.

Then suddenly, the field around him was bathed in light as the whole sky lit up with a fiery, red blaze. Martin looked up in astonishment as a huge comet passed right over his head, making his skull prickle and his hair stand up in all directions. The comet crashed down not far from him next to the airport, shaking the ground as it made contact.

Martin briefly thought of running back to the motel and telling Arthur and Douglas what he had just seen while waiting for the authorities to get here. But then his curiosity got the better of him and he moved across the field, which was now lit by a strange, orange glow, to where the comet had landed.

As he moved closer, he began to doubt it was a comet at all. Whatever it was, it was burning brightly and flooding its environment with smoke. Then Martin spotted something moving and held his breath as a hatch slowly opened and a man stepped out.

The man was tall, much taller than Martin (then again, who wasn’t?), and from what Martin could spot through the smoke, wearing a long coat. He quickly moved away from the fire, not looking back once. Martin decided to call out to him to ask if he was okay because, after all, he had just climbed out of a burning aircraft.

“Excuse me, sir,” he shouted, “are you all right?”

The man turned around so fast Martin flinched. Apparently, he had not noticed he had company. They stood facing each other for a short while before the man spoke.

“Yes, I’m all right,” he said in a voice similar to Douglas’, deep and silky. “But, if I were you, I’d get away from my spaceship as far as possible as quickly as you can.”

“Your what?” Martin asked, sure he had misunderstood the other.

“Come on, no time for explanations,” the other said urgently, gesturing Martin to follow him.

Together, they jogged across the field towards the nearest lights and, therefore, the airport. It was difficult for Martin to keep up – he wasn’t the fittest of people and certainly not accustomed to go for a run in the dark in ice-cold Canada. The man didn’t seem to have any difficulties at all, despite him wearing only a thin coat and just having survived a crash-landing. In the distance, Martin could hear sirens and knew the fire brigade was on its way.

“Do … you know … where … you’re … going?” Martin panted when the airport drew nearer and nearer.

The man shushed him, but whispered, “Do you know a place where I could hide?”

Martin nodded. “Follow me.”

Martin strode back to the hotel quickly, but the man looked at him nervously and sometimes waved his hand impatiently. He was much taller and had no difficulties keeping up with Martin, quite the opposite; they weren’t going fast enough for the other man’s liking.

Soon, they reached the motel. Martin’s room was on the ground floor, so it was only a matter of a couple of seconds to cross the parking lot and slip into the room. The man quickly moved to the wall across from the door and huddled down next to the entrance to the bathroom, vigilance in his eyes. Martin didn’t know what to do because he had never really helped an apparent fugitive before, but, recalling one or two films he had seen, he quickly closed the curtains and locked the door before sitting down on the bed, facing the man.

There was still the sound of sirens in the distance, but they weren’t coming closer to the motel. Nevertheless, the stranger didn’t seem to want to talk to Martin and explain what was going on, and Martin didn’t want to ask. He was curious to learn about the man, he was a bit frightened because he couldn’t control the situation, and he was concerned for his own safety.

Finally, the man relaxed enough so he actually stood up and moved over to a desk to sit down in the chair in front of it.

“I’m sorry for any inconvenience I might have caused you,” he said. “It’s not a given to help any stranger in need.”

Martin shrugged, not used to dealing with compliments. “That’s all right,” he stammered. “I’m sure anyone would’ve done the same.”

The other shook his head, then extended his hand. “My name is Khan Noonien Singh,” he introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Noonien Singh,” Martin replied, taking his hand. “I’m Martin Crieff. Well, actually Captain Martin Crieff.”

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Captain? Of what?”

“An aeroplane,” Martin said proudly.

This information was acknowledged with a brief nod. “This might come in handy,” the other murmured, “but please, call me Khan. “He waved his hand. “You’ve earned that right by rescuing me tonight.”

“Yes, about that,” Martin started hesitantly, not sure of he was allowed to continue until Khan gave a small nod, “what exactly did I rescue you from?”

“Well,” Khan began, “this’ll take a lot of explaining. I’m a fugitive, but not from any country on this planet.”

“Are you telling me you’re from outer space?” Martin asked warily.

“No, not exactly.” Khan corrected him. “I was born and raised on Earth as part of a secret NASA programme, conducted by the special branch called AIPF. Since I’m a fugitive anyway, I don’t feel guilty for telling you this.

During the 60s, NASA received a transmission from a planet within our part of the galaxy, much too far away from Earth to be reached with our current technology. We, I mean NASA, suspected the inhabitants of this planet didn’t expect our technology to be so evolved we would be able to deceiver the message. Anyway, it revealed a plan to take over Earth and kill all its inhabitants because this planet was suffering from over-population. So NASA, or rather AIPF, started engineering soldiers who would be able to fend off this invasion. I am one of them.”

“And did you succeed,” Martin asked, “or do we still have to expect an invasion?”

“Well,” Khan continued, “part of the programme was to develop spaceships which could travel to this other planet and gather intelligence. It was estimated for the journey to only take a few months. Of course, NASA had to keep it a secret that humankind was already able to travel huge distances in such a short time. Otherwise, they would have also had to reveal the pending invasion and cause everyone to needlessly panic. I was one of seven who was sent to gather information. While we were on the planet-”

But Martin couldn’t restrain himself from interrupting Khan excitedly. “You were on another planet? A planet that’s actually inhabited by an alien race?”

“Yes, I was, but that’s not the main focus of my story,” Khan tried to calm him. “We found out the invasion was about to begin, with just enough time left for us to return to Earth and prepare for the inevitable. But then my brothers and sisters were captured by the enemy and AIPF ordered me to return to Earth and leave them to die. I refused, but then they revealed to me this had been their plan all along, and I should have been captured as well. Apparently, our space suits were filled with enough plutonium to blow up the whole planet before they could attack us. I tried to stop them, I really did. I couldn’t support whiping out millions and millions of innocent lives. But there was nothing I could do but to leave my friends and watch the planet burn.

“Back on Earth, I was captured and interrogated by AIPF. They put me on trial for committing treason and sentenced me to death. Earlier this evening, I was able to escape from the maximum security prison they had put me in. I stole one of the smaller spaceships and flew up into the mesosphere, but it malfunctioned and crashed. And then you found me.

“Do you see now why I don’t want to be found?”

Martin sat on the bed and stared at Khan open-mouthed. This was a man who had been engineered to protect Earth from an alien invasion, who had been to another planet, and who was now in hiding from a secret organisation Martin had never heard of. This didn’t sound plausible to him. Khan could be a common murderer trying not to get caught by the police, for all Martin knew. But then there was the red light and the crash, and there was no denying Khan had landed in the middle of a deserted field in a vehicle Martin hadn’t had a good look at. This supported Khan’s story.

“Are you all right?” Khan asked, not sounding concerned, but rather as if he had been trained to inquire after the well-being of others. “You look a bit pale.”

“Yes, I’m fine, sorry,” Martin shook his head. “It’s just a lot to process. You were on _a different planet_ without anyone on Earth noticing. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?”

“I’m sorry I had to burden you with this story,” Khan apologised. “But I thought the best way of gaining your trust was to tell you the truth.”

“Why do you want my trust?” Martin asked attentively.

“You mentioned earlier you owned an airplane,” Khan started, but stopped confused when Martin burst into laughter. “Is there something funny?”

“Yes, no, I’m sorry,” Martin panted, trying to catch his breath. “I said I was the captain, not that I owned the aeroplane. I get paid to fly it. Well, when I say I get paid, I don’t mean literally. I should get paid, but Carolyn refuses to do so. Anyway, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Who is Carolyn?” Khan asked, looking at Martin as if he wasn’t sure he could trust him after this little outburst.

“She’s my boss,” Martin answered, “and the owner of the aeroplane.”

“So if I want you to fly me somewhere, we have to involve another person?” Khan wanted to make sure.

Martin nodded.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” Khan admitted. “Is she trustworthy?”

Martin thought about this. “No, I wouldn’t say so,” he finally admitted, “but she doesn’t care enough about what other people do, so she won’t be bothering you with questions, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“So you could take me somewhere, if I paid you?” Khan asked. “And no one would ask any questions?”

“Well, you would have to talk to Carolyn first,” Martin said thoughtfully. “After all, it’s her charter firm and any bookings need to be discussed with her. But we don’t have to be anywhere for the next couple of days, so I’m sure you could charter us. She’ll be delighted to make some money over Christmas. Of course, Douglas won’t like it, but if you don’t mind, I could fly you on my own.”

“Christmas?” Khan asked confused.

“Yes, today is Christmas Eve,” Martin informed Khan, “but you wouldn’t know, would you,” he remembered. “I don’t expect them to tell you stuff like that in a high security prison.”

“No, they don’t,” Khan shrugged.

“Where would you want to go, anyway?” Martin asked after a short pause. “And are you able to pay Carolyn, even though you are a fugitive?”

“I have money,” Khan said sincere.

“Good,” Martin nodded. “And the destination is …?”

“I haven’t thought about this yet,” Khan admitted. “I’m not sure there is a place on this planet where AIPF won’t find me.”

Martin thought about what he did when he was faced with a difficult decision: he remembered his training. It wasn’t for nothing that he had learned the operations manual and the flight manual and all the rules and regulations by heart. This often helped him when he was in a difficult situation.

“When you were in training, did they teach you something, well, anything, about vanishing completely, about going into hiding?” he asked Khan.

“Of course they did,” Khan answered impatiently.

Martin flinched inwardly, again unsure how to talk to Khan if such a simple question made the other snap at him.

“They just said it’s important to adapt and to blend in because people don’t look for the obvious,” Khan went on, a bit calmer. “So, in this situation it’s probably best if I get a normal job in another country and wait for them to run out of money to search for me.”

“They probably think you died in the crash anyway,” Martin said, finding his courage again.

“They won’t be fooled for long,” Khan corrected him, “since they’ll find my corpse isn’t there once they had a look at the wreckage. But it might give me a head start.”

“You could come and work for us,” Martin suggested, surprising himself with this offer. “I mean for MJN Air, for Carolyn. I’m pretty sure she’ll refuse to pay you, but it’s for maybe half a year or a year – I don’t know how long it’ll take for this AIPF to run out of money – and you told me you have money anyway, and Carolyn might even let you work as a pilot-”

Martin went quiet as soon as Khan raised his hand.

“It’s very kind of you to offer me this,” Khan said quietly, “but I’m not sure if I want to be this exposed in my job.”

“But you wouldn’t be,” Martin continued. “We do mostly cargo flights anyway because no one in their right mind charters us to fly passengers. And you’d be always on the move, so you would be even harder to find.”

Martin surprised himself with how eager he was for Khan to work at MJN Air. It probably was due to the fact that he had been employed by Carolyn four and a half years ago and desperately craved some change. Besides, having a third pilot would certainly mix things up and give Martin the opportunity to earn some more money with his van.

“There’s just one small problem,” Martin felt the need to admit. “Carolyn will be sceptical when she learns you want to work for free, so we need to come up with a good cover story.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Khan objected. “I haven’t said I’ll work for your company. I’m not sure if I even want to work as a pilot.”

“You could sleep on it,” Martin suggested, “and if you decide to stay with us, then we can call Carolyn tomorrow morning. If not, you can still charter us to fly you somewhere.”

“All right,” Khan agreed.

“And if you’ll excuse me now,” Martin said, standing up, “I need to go to bed; otherwise I won’t be in hours to fly tomorrow.”

“Can I … stay here?” Khan asked hesitantly, which was in opposition to his prowess from earlier.

“Sure,” Martin shrugged. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to take the floor.”

He pointed at the bed which was just big enough to accommodate a single person.

“I’ll keep watch,” Khan said eagerly, apparently glad to have a task.

“If you’re sure,” Martin said. “There’s a spare blanket and pillow in the wardrobe if you change your mind.”

Martin went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change into his pyjamas. Once or twice, an unpleasant thought crept to the front of his conscience telling him he was too trusting. He didn’t know Khan, after all, and still he was willing to let him stay in a tiny motel room while Martin was asleep. Then again, Khan hadn’t done anything to awaken Martin’s mistrust. The story, as fantastical as it was, simply had to be true. No one would spend that much time and energy on coming up with such an elaborate lie if the reward was just a night’s rest in a shabby motel room. And even if Khan turned out to be a thief who would sneak away with Martin’s things in the middle of the night, Martin didn’t mind. There wasn’t much to steal anyway, and Martin wished Khan all the luck in the world to try and find something valuable among his possessions.

When he came back into the room, he saw Khan had moved the chair from the desk to the window, so he could peek outside and still be able to sit. Khan had already assumed his post and didn’t even turn around when Martin opened and closed the door to the bathroom and climbed into bed.

The room was almost completely dark; light from the parking lot was only sparsely illuminating the floor and the walls. Martin made use of this and allowed himself to stare at Khan’s back, wondering if he would accept the offer. It wasn’t at all like Martin to offer strangers a position at MJN Air. It wasn’t at all like Martin to even talk to strangers. But something about Khan had fascinated him (was it the fact he had been to outer space? was it his strange past? was it his muscular built? Martin couldn’t say), and he was eager to learn more.

“Are you sure you don’t want a blanket?” Martin asked into the silence.

Khan didn’t even flinch at the sound of Martin’s voice after it had been quiet for such a long time.

“No, thank you,” he said, “I’m fine.”

Martin turned around so he was facing the bathroom door and tried to go to sleep. To his great annoyance, he was much too excited for some reason to find peace and quiet. It also didn’t help that he could still hear the sound of sirens in the distance which reminded him of the peril he was in. He didn’t want to know what the penalty was should he be discovered aiding a fugitive who had been convicted and sentenced to death for committing treason.

Somehow, he must have drifted off to sleep anyway because he was jerked awake by the sound of the alarm on his phone. At first, he was confused as to where he was until he remembered the flight to Canada, the crash and … Khan. Martin turned around hurriedly to see if the other man was still there, but the chair in front of the window was empty. It wasn’t surprising, really. Khan had probably stolen his wallet and had made for the US border. But then Martin’s ears picked up the sound of the water running in the shower and he felt relief flooding his veins. Khan hadn’t left after all.

Martin quickly got dressed and then knocked at the door to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he shouted through the PVC door, “but I have to leave in ten minutes.”

He heard the water being turned off and a rustling sound before the door suddenly opened and Martin was faced with Khan who had only wrapped a thin towel around his waist, his dark hair dripping with water.

“There was no need for you to open the door right away,” Martin mumbled. “I was just wondering if you had made up your mind about coming to work for MJN Air.”

“I have, actually,” Khan replied. “I’ll give it a try.”

“Really?” Martin asked, surprised with this answer. “That’s … that’s good news. For you, I mean.” He looked past Khan at the bathroom wall. “Do you have any idea what you want to tell Carolyn as a reason why she doesn’t need to pay you.”

“Yes, I have,” Khan answered. “I’ll talk to her later.”

“Good, good,” Martin nodded. “I’ll be leaving soon; you might want to get dressed. Then I’ll take you to meet Douglas and Arthur.”

“Are they your colleagues?” Khan wanted to know, but closed the bathroom door in Martin’s face.

“Yes,” Martin said hesitantly. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Ten minutes later Khan was standing in front of Martin, dressed in his dirty clothes from yesterday evening, but looking more refreshed than he had any right to be after a sleepless night. Martin always looked as if he was on his deathbed when he didn’t get enough sleep.

“What are you wearing?” Khan asked as he watched Martin putting on his cloak.

“It’s my captain’s uniform,” Martin informed him.

“It looks a bit silly, doesn’t it?” Khan put his head to one side thoughtfully. “Why is it blue?”

“It’s not blue,” Martin corrected him. “It’s navy.”

“It’s blue,” Khan disagreed. “Uniforms should be black.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Martin said, feeling defensive, “but if you come and work for us, you’ll have to wear one as well.”

Khan sighed audibly but didn’t object any further.

“We’re meeting in the departure lounge,” Martin informed Khan. “I still need to file a flight plan.”

“This sounds like paperwork,” Khan sighed.

Martin wasn’t the most talented when it came to reading other people’s behaviour (he certainly was better than Arthur, though), but he could sense Khan wasn’t as happy as he should be about escaping a certain death. So he decided to spend the short way to the airport in silence.

It was a cold morning, so cold Martin’s hands were freezing within seconds even though he was wearing gloves and had buried them in his coat pockets. Khan wasn’t affected by the cold at all. His nose wasn’t even running, whereas Martin sounded as if he had a terrible cold.

“I should probably warn you,” Martin said as he opened the door to the small airport, “Douglas will tease you about everything and Arthur will want to be your friend right away.”

Khan just stared at Martin.

“All right, it’s this way,” Martin gestured to a double door opposite the entrance. “You don’t have to do this, by the way.”

“Hm?” Khan hummed.

“You don’t have to come and work for us,” Martin elaborated. “I can see you don’t really want to, and I bet you’ll find lots of other things to do until this all blows over.”

Khan shrugged, “No, it’s fine, but I’ll have to talk to this Carolyn about the uninforms.”

Martin felt more relaxed immediately at this attempt at a joke. “You can certainly try,” he said, “but don’t get your hopes up.”

They walked through the double door together and Martin could hear Arthur’s loud, excited voice and Douglas’ deep one, discussing the question why this airport didn’t have any shops.

As they turned a corner, Martin cleared his throat to announce their arrival. Arthur almost didn’t get all the way through his eager shout of “Skip!” when he spotted Khan and Douglas crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising his eyebrows in expectations.

“This is Khan Noonien Singh,” Martin introduced his companion without any pretences, not even a “good morning”.

“Who is he?” Douglas asked warily.

“You must be Douglas,” Khan said, taking over the reins from Martin.

“I’m Douglas Richardson, yes,” Douglas replied, “or Mr Richardson to people who don’t know me.”

Martin wanted to shake his head to tell Douglas to be quiet and not agitate Khan unnecessarily, but, to his surprise, Khan just beamed at Douglas and took his hand.

“Then I hope I’ll be able to call you Douglas soon,” Khan said smiling. Then he turned to Arthur. “And you must be Arthur.”

Arthur reciprocated his smile. “Yes, it’s very nice to meet you.”

“Who are you?” Douglas asked again.

“He’s-,” Martin started, but Khan interrupted him.

“I’m here to apply to MJN Air,” Khan explained.

Douglas laughed. “Are you sure? I’m not sure what Martin told you, if he told you anything, but you don’t want to be working with us.”

“I don’t?” Khan asked innocently.

“For one thing, we don’t have enough money to pay you,” Douglas said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Khan reassured him. “I’m not in it for the money. Actually, I have more money than I know what to do with anyway. I just want to experience the excitement of charter life for a bit.”

Douglas glared at Khan as if he didn’t believe a single word the man was saying. But Arthur was on board with the idea immediately.

“That’s brilliant,” he exclaimed. “I hope Mum let’s you come and work for us.”

“Don’t get too attached to the idea, Arthur,” Douglas warned him. “You know how your mother can be.”

“Carolyn wouldn’t turn down free labour, would she?” Martin interjected.

“If you so sure about that, you can go and talk to her,” Douglas snapped. “I’m going to go and prepare for take-off.”

“Wait for me, Douglas,” Arthur shouted, and Martin knew he didn’t want to be present when Martin talked to Carolyn.

One phone call later, Martin’s mood was at the lowest point it had been all week, but Carolyn had agreed to meet with Khan. She even let him fly across the Atlantic Ocean for free when she heard he didn’t want to be paid.

Martin and Khan climbed into GERTI together and while Khan went to sit down in one of the passenger seats, Martin went up to the flight deck to his seat. He was greeted by the sight of Douglas glaring at him.

“What did she say?” he asked.

“She said she wants to meet him,” Martin answered.

Douglas huffed.

“You all right?” Martin asked while he sat down in the captain’s chair.

“No,” Douglas admitted frankly. “I don’t like him. He’s so … elegant.”

Martin snorted with laughter. “Elegant?” This wasn’t a word he would have chosen to describe Khan.

“Yes, haven’t you talked to him?” Douglas snapped.

“I don’t know,” Martin shrugged. “I just wouldn’t say he was elegant.”


	2. June in January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin and Khan have to fly GERTI to Argentina, which gives them time to get to know each other. Martin is determined to learn more about Khan's past, whereas Khan is determined to teach Martin to be confident.

Carolyn was suspicious, much more suspicious than Martin would ever have anticipated. Yes, she was intrigued at the prospect of hiring a third pilot who didn’t want to be paid, but she was also highly apprehensive at Khan’s explanation. Douglas didn’t help either. He interjected sentences like, “Are you sure, Carolyn?” and “Why work for us? Why not enjoy life when you have so much money?” But in the end Carolyn decided to hire Khan on a trial basis, giving him a month to prove himself.

Douglas wasn’t happy about this arrangement. He pointed out that Carolyn knew nothing about this Khan Noonien Singh and that she shouldn’t be hiring him, not if he wasn’t willing to give them more details about his life. Khan was dismissive, acting as if his credentials, hobbies, and achievements weren’t important enough to be discussed in public, but Douglas couldn’t let it go. Carolyn, on the other hand, was much too intrigued by the prospect of free labour to give much thought to Douglas’ complaints and objections. In the end, they agreed Douglas would be made captain, and Khan would enter into the services of MJN Air as first officer.

During the whole conversation, Khan had been engaging, friendly, funny, even humble. He was a completely different person than the one Martin had met on the cold field in Prince Albert. But as soon as they had settled everything and Carolyn had revised her plan for the following month and given Khan a few flights (none of them together with Douglas, Martin couldn’t help but notice), Martin and Khan were alone again and Khan dropped his act.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard,” he said, straightening his coat which still faintly smelled of fire.

“You were persuasive,” Martin pointed out, feeling himself blush.

“I simply know how to get what I want,” Khan shrugged. “And what I want now is a place to stay.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that,” Martin said, blushing further. “I don’t-” But he thought better than to reveal his backstory to Khan and stopped himself mid-sentence.

“Hm?” Khan made, sounding as if his thoughts were occupied with something far away from their conversation.

“Nothing,” Martin quickly assured the other man before deciding to change the topic. “So, our first flight together is in two days.”

“Yes,” Khan agreed.

“And I was wondering if you want to get together before that,” Martin went on, “so we can get to know each other a bit better. We’ll be in a flight deck for more than two days.”

Khan didn’t look intrigued by Martin’s suggestion. He was still occupied with his own thoughts.

Martin went on. “Rio Gallegos is on the other side of the globe.”

“I’m sorry, Martin,” Khan interrupted him, “I need to go and sort things out. We’ll see each other on Monday, all right?”

“Okay,” Martin said, taken aback. “See you.”

 

“Where did your friend get to?” Douglas teased Martin once he had returned to the plane to pick up his things from the flight to Prince Albert.

“I don’t know,” Martin admitted. “He said something about finding a place to stay.”

“Where did he come from anyway?” Douglas asked, sounding as if he couldn’t care less. Martin, of course, knew he cared about this more than about winning their word games. Douglas hadn’t talked about anything else since they had gotten on the plane back in Canada.

“I told you,” Martin sighed, for what must have been the twentieth time, “he saw me at the airport and asked me if I was a captain and I told him yes and-”

“Oh, he asked you if you were a _captain_ ,” Douglas said, sounding as if he had discovered the secret of the universe. “That explains everything, of course.”

“What does it explain?” Martin demanded to know.

“Why you’d do anything for him,” Douglas sneered.

“I would not,” Martin defended himself. “I offered to help him after he asked me if I knew a place where he could get a job.”

“Look at him,” Douglas spat. “There’s no way he’s a millionaire who is bored. He looks more like a criminal, if you ask me.”

“What happened to elegant?” Martin asked.

“An elegant criminal,” Douglas mumbled. “I don’t trust him and I’m going to find out what he’s hiding.”

Martin suddenly felt panicky. He trusted Douglas and Arthur (and sometimes Carolyn), but he didn’t want them to find out the truth about Khan. It would over-complicate things.

“I don’t think he’s hiding anything,” Martin mumbled.

“Yes, he is,” Douglas disagreed, sounding thoughtful. “Look at him. No one in their right mind would work for MJN Air, not if they had a choice. And certainly not someone like this Khan who looks like he could get a job anywhere, as anything he fancied. No, I’m telling you, something isn’t right here.”

“What do you mean, he looks like someone who could get a job anywhere?” Martin inquired.

“He’s ridiculously good-looking,” Douglas answered, still in a thoughtful tone of voice. “He could be a model or a bank manager or a lifeguard, anything but a pilot for MJN Air.”

“You think he’s good-looking?” Martin felt himself blush again.

Douglas looked at him confused, which he never did, so Martin tried to pull himself together by straightening his jacket and looking at his watch as if he didn’t care much about what Douglas thought about Khan.

“Yes, he is,” Douglas said. “Didn’t you look at him?”

“Yes, I did,” Martin stammered. “Anyway, I’d better be off now. I have a job with my van.”

Douglas drew his eyebrows together and crossed his arms in front of his chest, regarding Martin with suspicion.

“Martin,” he said quietly, “is everything all right?”

“Yes, quite all right,” Martin assured him. “See you.”

 

The weekend passed in relative quiet. Martin bought a couple of newspapers on Saturday to see if anyone was reporting on Khan, but he couldn’t find a single article addressing this topic. He wasn’t surprised either – after what Khan had told him, he hadn’t expected to find any information on Khan’s escape and the search for him. Nevertheless, reading each newspaper carefully kept him busy and his mind off Khan. Moreover, the weekend passed slower than any cargo flight Martin had ever been on. He told himself the reason was he didn’t have much to do opposed to his usual life where he was kept busy by MJN Air and errands with his van. He most certainly wasn’t excited for Monday when he would see Khan again.

MJN Air was scheduled to leave on Monday around noon for a cargo flight to Rio Gallegos in Argentina. Since Douglas was now a captain as well and had more flying experience than Martin and Khan, he was senior to the both of them, and therefore finally in a position to pick his flights first. After the trip to Prince Albert he didn’t fancy another one across the globe the week after, so he declined the job, leaving it to Martin and Khan.

The night before the trip, Martin did his best to sleep enough. He usually was extremely strict with himself when it came to this topic. Statistically speaking, he was much more likely to cause an accident when he was tired, so he always went to bed so early he would get the right amount of sleep. On Sunday evening, however, he was rolling around in bed, unable to drift off. It was a matter of hours until he would see Khan again and this thought was so intriguing and exciting, it kept him awake. Moreover, they would be alone for hours, days, so Martin had a chance to learn everything he could about his new colleague. He might get Khan to tell him what it was like to set foot on another planet. And there were so many more question which required answering: Why was Khan so nice to everyone else, but so reserved, clinical, and almost cold with Martin? Had he found a place to stay? What had his life been like before he went halfway across the galaxy to _another planet_?

After hours and hours Martin finally drifted off, but his sleep was interrupted by dreams about sheep living in an old house together with small children and about having to write a maths test. When he woke up at seven as the alarm on his phone went off, he felt as if he hadn’t slept at all. There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to get him through this trip ahead of him.

When he arrived at Fitton Airfield with a comfortable two hours at hand, he decided to wait in Carolyn’s office for Khan to arrive, maybe to catch up on some sleep. But when he opened the door, he was greeted by a sight not welcome to him: Carolyn was sitting in her chair doing paperwork.

“Martin!” she exclaimed in surprise. “You’re early.”

“You’re here,” Martin said weakly.

“Well, yes,” Carolyn agreed, “this is my office, after all.”

“Yes, sorry.” Martin shook his head in an attempt to wake himself up.

“Are you all right?” Carolyn inquired, sounding concerned. But before Martin could answer, she went on. “Oh, it’s not important. But now you are here, why don’t you sit down? I have a few things I want to talk to you about.”

Martin looked at his boss warily, but sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk.

“Can I tempt you with some coffee?” Carolyn asked. She stood up and walked over to where a Nespresso machine was standing on a chest of drawers.

Martin’s suspicions were further aroused by this sentence. “What are you playing at?” he asked carefully.

“Nothing, nothing,” Carolyn assured him before turning quiet as the machine filled a cup with steaming hot coffee. She sat it down in front of Martin before continuing, “Now, tell me, this Khan Noonien Singh person. Where did you meet him?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “I told you, he approached me when he saw me at the airport and when he learned I was a captain he asked me if I knew anywhere he could apply for a job.”

“But I’m not buying this story,” Carolyn said, looking serious, “and Douglas doesn’t either.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Martin sighed, trying to sound as if he was annoyed no one believed him but knowing he wasn’t convincing.

“Why not start with the truth?” Carolyn asked.

Martin decided to give in, at least partially. He knew he wasn’t a good enough liar to keep such a big secret from Carolyn for more than a few days, not if MJN Air was involved.

“I’m sorry, Carolyn, I can’t,” he admitted.

“Aha!” she made triumphantly. “So there is a truth to tell.”

“Well, I met Khan in Prince Albert,” Martin shrugged, “and he asked me for a job. But I’m afraid I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Come on, Martin,” Carolyn tried to persuade him. “I’ll give you some money.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Martin declined her offer.

“How about £100?” Carolyn went on.

Martin shook his head.

“All right, you greedy man,” Carolyn said, looking as if she thought Martin was trying to get more money out of this, “£200.”

“I can’t help you.”

“I’m going to find out the truth sooner or later,” Carolyn reminded him, “and I won’t forget you weren’t much of a help.”

Martin shrugged again. “If you want to know about Khan, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“Let’s do the briefing,” Carolyn dropped the subject all of a sudden, but Martin remembered to keep his guard up. “You’ll operate out, Mr Noonien Singh will operate back. Your destination is Rio Gallegos, your alternate is Punta Arenas. Got that?”

“Shouldn’t Khan be here for the briefing?” Martin inquired.

“Well, you can fill him in later, can’t you,” Carolyn said dismissively.

Martin decided not to question Carolyn any further. Instead, he picked up the cup in front of him and took a sip of his coffee – it was cold already.

“Oh, and Martin,” Carolyn said as an afterthought, “try to fly carefully, won’t you? The freight is valuable.”

“What are we flying?” Martin asked, ignoring the slight criticism directed toward him.

“Some science equipment for a laboratory,” Carolyn shrugged, “but this stuff is unnecessarily expensive.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Excuse me.” Khan stepped into the office. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I have a few questions.” He stopped abruptly when he spotted Martin. “Am I late?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“No, not at all.” Carolyn had stood up and was moving toward Khan. “Please, Mr Noonien Singh, come in. I was just briefing Martin on your upcoming trip.”

Khan was led to the table by Carolyn and sat down in the chair next to Martin.

“As I was saying, you need to be careful with the freight,” Carolyn repeated. “It’s expensive.”

“Well, I should think so,” Khan said with a side-glance to Martin. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be paid to fly it halfway around the globe.”

Carolyn laughed a strange laugh Martin had never heard and which disturbed him. Was she laughing about Khan’s remark?

“The ground crew loaded the plane this morning, so you can leave as soon as you get clearance from the tower, now that you’re both here,” Carolyn went on after she had stopped laughing.

Martin stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Just a minute, Martin, please,” Khan said, and Martin sat immediately back down. “I have one quick question for Mrs Knapp-Shappey, about the uniforms.”

Martin inwardly hid his face in his hands.

“They’re a bit blue, aren’t they?” Khan pointed out. “Uniforms should be black.”

“Should they?” Carolyn asked, every trace of laughter vanishing out of her face at this criticism. “Tell you what: if you can find black uniforms free of charge, you’re welcome to make Douglas and Martin wear them. Until then, I’m the person responsible for dressing my employees. Understood?”

Martin picked up his cup again and took another sip of his cold coffee so he would have something to do and not die of embarrassment.

“Yes, ma’am,” Khan assured her. “I didn’t mean to offend you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Carolyn calmed him.

Martin nearly spat his coffee across Carolyn’s table. He had never heard her talk to anyone this way before.

“Martin and I’d better be going, hadn’t we?” Khan said, standing up. “Thank you for meeting me.” He extended his hand and Carolyn shook it.

“See you in two days,” Carolyn dismissed them.

Martin was so dumbstruck, he stood up and went out of the office without saying anything to Carolyn.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Khan dropped the attitude. The smile vanished from his face and he turned to Martin, looking concerned.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, sorry.” Martin shook his head. “It’s … I’ve never heard Carolyn being this nice to anyone ever before.”

Khan shrugged.

“But shall we get going?” Martin changed the subject.

Khan nodded and together they walked outside to where GERTI was waiting for them. Dirk was standing next to the plane, greeting them.

“You’re good to go,” he told Martin, handing him the tech-log and Martin signed it, clearing his throat.

“Thank you, Dirk,” he mumbled, desperate to get as much space between him and the groundsman.

Martin quickly climbed into the plane, followed by Khan.

“You’re not scared of him, are you?” Khan asked.

“What? No,” Martin exclaimed. “It’s … he’s so unprofessional. He’s a groundman, for God’s sake, not an engineer. He’s not supposed to let me sign off the tech-log.”

“Tell him,” Khan suggested.

“Yeah, right,” Martin laughed. “Have you seen him? I’m not talking to him if I can avoid it.”

“So you _are_ scared of him,” Khan insisted.

“How familiar are you with this type of aeroplane?” Martin changed the subject.

Khan was having none of it, however. “There’s nothing to be scared of. You’re a _captain_. You can do anything you want. Tell him he’s not qualified.”

“You sound like Douglas,” Martin sighed. “Being a captain is not as easy as all of you make it sound.”

“But it is,” Khan disagreed. “You are the most qualified person around here. You simply need confidence.”

“But I’m not confident,” Martin admitted.

“Feign confidence,” Khan suggested.

“How do I do that?” Martin asked surprised.

“Well, first of all, you don’t go around admitting you’re not confident,” Khan said, “and you don’t ask people how to appear confident. You just do it.”

Martin shook his head.

“All right.” Khan clapped his hands together. “Let’s pretend I turned up drunk for duty and you have to tell me to sit in the galley and get sober and I’m not allowed inside the flight deck until you say so.”

“Wait, what?” Martin made, but was stopped by Khan suddenly gripping his neck and nearly dragging him down to the floor. “What are you doing?”

“You have lovely eyes, captain,” Khan sighed in a drunk voice. “Really lovely eyes.” He raised the hand which was not gripping Martin’s neck and touched a finger to Martin’s left eyebrow, almost stabbing him in the eye.

“Khan, what’s going on?” Martin demanded to know, meaning what Khan was trying to achieve with this charade.

“I had a little drink,” Khan hiccupped, putting his forefinger and thumb together so they were nearly touching. “Just a very little,” he hiccupped, “drink.”

Martin decided to go along with this in the hope it would be over quickly. “You can’t fly a plane when you’re drunk,” he pointed out weakly.

“’sis no problem,” Khan sighed happily. “I’m just a little drunk.”

Their faces were close together, so close Martin could feel Khan’s breath on his face, which didn’t smell of alcohol, destroying the illusion and reminding Martin Khan was, in fact, as sober as he was.

“You are not allowed to command any plane when you’re drunk,” Martin said, slowly getting the hang of this game.

“But I can command you,” Khan laughed, touching Martin’s nose with his forefinger.

Martin froze momentarily before retorting, “No, you can’t, I’m the captain.”

Khan hiccupped again. “Then command me,” a short pause, “ _captain_.”

Martin swallowed hard, reminding himself Khan was completely sober. Which made this affair more strange … and interesting.

“All right,” Martin said in a tone he hoped sounded commanding, “you are going to sit here in the galley until you’re sober and you are not to step into the flight deck until I say so. Is that understood?”

“What happens if I disobey?” Khan asked, cocking an eyebrow challengingly.

“I’m going to report you to Carolyn and tell her she needs to find another pilot who’ll work for free and I’ll wish her good luck with that,” Martin answered.

Khan sighed and straightened up. “See,” he said, his old self again, “it wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Yes, because it was only you,” Martin pointed out. “It’s completely different with Dirk or Douglas.”

“What do you mean, only me?” Khan asked, putting his head to one side and looking at Martin curiously.

“I know you, don’t I?” Martin shrugged.

“You know Douglas as well,” Khan pointed out.

“With Douglas it’s different,” Martin tried to explain. “He doesn’t treat me as … nicely as you do.”

“I don’t treat you nicely,” Khan exclaimed surprised.

“You don’t treat me the way you treat Carolyn and Douglas, true,” Martin said thoughtfully, “but it doesn’t count because it’s not the real you, is it? I mean, it’s an act for them, right? You need them to like you if you want to work for us. But you treat me differently. Well, maybe nice is the wrong word. You treat me as if you thought I was competent and able to command an aeroplane and you trust me enough to help you with your plan. If you think about it, I’m a complete stranger, and yet you walked into my life, told me your story, and put enough trust in me to not go straight to the police and turn you in.”

“You’re a captain,” Khan said. “I assumed you were an authority figure, and used to difficult and challenging situations.”

“Well, I’m not,” Martin admitted. “But your secret is safe with me, all right? For example, Carolyn tried to get me to tell her who you are back there, and I told her it’s not my secret to tell, and if she was so desperate to find it out, she should talk to you.”

“Thank you,” Khan said, still looking surprised. “See? I can trust you.”

“Yes,” Martin shrugged. “Shall we get going?”

Together, they walked into the flight deck; Martin sat down on the right chair, Khan on the left. Martin had to keep himself from making a remark about how Khan had to sit in the galley until Martin allowed him to come inside, but he was sure it wouldn’t go down well with his new colleague.

“This looks more complicated than I thought,” Khan admitted, looking at the array of buttons and switches in front of him.

“But you can fly it, right?” Martin asked concerned.

“Of course I can,” Khan assured him, “but once you’ve flown a spaceship-” He trailed off, his gaze catching Martin’s eyes.

“Oh, now you’re showing off,” Martin sighed.

 

They soon were airborne, heading south-west, out onto the Atlantic. Martin felt himself getting more and more relaxed the more miles they put between themselves and Fitton, which was interesting because he hadn’t noticed he was tense. Khan, on the other hand, was still vigilant, similar to how he had been on their first night together, checking the radar and the empty skies more often than strictly necessary.

“So did you find a place to stay?” Martin asked after some time to break the silence.

“Yes, I did,” Khan answered. “I bought a house.”

“You _bought_ a _house_?” Martin couldn’t believe his ears.

“I told you I had money, didn’t I?” Khan shrugged.

“But isn’t it a bit obvious? Doesn’t it make it easier for you to be found?” Martin asked concerned.

“Not really,” was the answer. “Hiding in plain sight is usually a good move to avoid detection.” Again, they both went silent. Then, “So where do you live?”

Martin felt himself turning red. “In a shared house,” he mumbled.

“What’s that?” Khan sounded genuinely interested, but Martin felt uncomfortable.

“It’s a house you share with others if you don’t have enough money to live on your own,” he said quickly.

“But you’re a captain. Shouldn’t you earn enough money to afford at least a nice flat?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you,” Martin said, sounding bitter, “I told you Carolyn doesn’t pay me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, did you think I was joking?” Martin knew he shouldn’t let out his frustration on Khan; the poor man wasn’t responsible for his miserable life, but Martin felt embarrassed and tired of having to worry about money constantly and being judged by other people because he couldn’t even afford a TV. “Feel free to laugh at me now,” he snapped.

“Why would I laugh at you?” Khan sounded taken aback.

“That’s what people usually do,” Martin growled. “As if I didn’t know my situation was funny; let’s laugh at the airline captain who lives in a house together with a bunch of teenagers; see, kids, this is what you get for following your dreams.”

“Who laughs at you because of this?” Khan asked, his posture becoming tense.

“Well, Douglas does,” Martin shrugged, “and Carolyn.”

“How dare she?” Khan growled and Martin was taken aback by the sudden change of atmosphere in the flight deck. “How dare she not pay you and make fun of you for something you can’t help and for which she is directly responsible.”

“It’s not so bad,” Martin tried to shrug it off.

“And that man,” Khan went on, ignoring Martin, “I can live with him not liking me, but you consider him your friend and he treats you like garbage.”

“No,” Martin shook his head, “it’s not so bad, don’t worry about it.”

Khan stared at him disbelievingly. “And you let them do it. You let them bully you because you think you deserve it, don’t you? Because they seem so much stronger than you, don’t they?”

“No,” Martin objected. “I don’t know.”

The intercom suddenly made a sound as if it wanted to be part of the conversation.

“That’s probably Carolyn,” Martin informed Khan. “She wants to know how we’re doing.” And before Khan could say anything, Martin answered, “Yes, hello?”

“Martin.” Carolyn sounded cheerful, which was never a good sign. “How are you doing? How is Mr Noonien Singh?”

“He’s right next to me,” Martin whispered. “He can hear everything you say.”

“Yes, thank you, Martin. I’m aware of how an intercom works,” Carolyn sighed. “I’m calling to ask how you are doing.”

“We’re fine, everything’s fine,” Martin assured her.

He could feel Khan glaring at him.

“And how’s the flight? Any turbulences or other inconveniences?”

“No, none at all,” Martin reported.

“Good, good, just checking.”

“Is that all?” Martin asked impatiently.

“Yes, yes, I’ll leave you to your, no doubt, thrilling conversation. Excuse me for checking up on what you are doing with my plane.”

“Bye, Carolyn,” Martin said, hanging up. He turned to Khan, “Do you want to tell me something?”

“We need to work on that,” was Khan’s reply, “on you letting others treat you this way.”

“No, it’s not important. It might sound bad to you because you don’t know us, but it’s fine,” Martin assured him.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Khan said, sounding as if he didn’t believe a single word Martin was saying. “But if you want my opinion, you should probably rethink this.” He made a vague gesture.

Flying with Khan was more exhausting than flying with Douglas. With Douglas, it was only word-games. With Khan, it was the discussion of fundamental problems, like Martin’s insecurity or his lack of authority. Martin had almost reached the point where he was about to shout at Khan he wasn’t better than any of the others for making him feel bad about not being more in control, when ATC contacted them with a storm warning. Khan immediately went into a state of complete focus, checking weather maps and judging the sky outside.

“It shouldn’t be too bad,” he informed Martin, “but it would be best if we avoided the eye of the storm, to be on the safe side.”

For the next two hours, they were both focused on getting GERTI through the storm in one piece and the discussion about Martin stopped completely. When they arrived on the other side, Martin felt too exhausted to get the conversation going again and Khan had decided it was best to leave him be.

“Have you ever been to South America?” Khan asked after a while in an attempt at small talk.

“Yes, I have,” Martin nodded. “We had to fly a CEO to Brazil once.”

“I had some of my training there,” Khan said. “We were dropped somewhere in the jungle in Brazil and had to survive for a month.”

“A _month_?” Martin echoed disbelievingly.

“It’s the closest we can get to simulating life on a different planet,” Khan informed him. “Basically, you’re in this forest and you can’t contact anyone on the outside and there are hostile plants and animals and it’s hot and moist and raining every few hours. And on top of everything, you have to find food and shelter as well.”

“But a whole month,” Martin repeated.

“Yes, of course. You don’t train for much in a week or so. The real trick is to survive under harsh conditions for a longer period of time.”

“But that’s amazing.” Martin was genuinely impressed. “I bet you know lots about the jungle.”

“Not so much about the jungle, but about survival,” Khan corrected him.

 _This explains a lot_ , Martin thought, _especially why he’s so keen on teaching me how to deal with tough situations_.

“Well, I hope we won’t be needing your skills during the next couple of days,” Martin attempted a joke.

“The chances are not high,” Khan said, unsure how to interpret what Martin had said.

“It was a joke,” Martin told him.

“Oh, all right,” Khan nodded. “Well, there’s always the chance of us running into representatives of AIPF. We’d have to fight our way through.”

Martin didn’t want to admit it, but he found the thought of watching Khan fight against men who were trying to arrest him interesting. The moment he had thought this, he scolded himself. It would put Khan in a life-threatening situation and this was the last thing which should be on Martin’s mind right now.

“Don’t look so worried. I’m sure they have no idea where I am,” Khan assured him, obviously misinterpreting the look on Martin’s face.

 

They finally landed after what should have been one of the longest flights of Martin’s career, but which had gone by way quicker than Martin had anticipated. He could’ve sworn they were about to cross the equator when he noticed it was time to start the descent into Rio Gallegos Airport.

It was late in the evening in Argentina and Martin couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and go to sleep. Khan, however, had other ideas.

“We could go for a walk,” he suggested once they had dealt with the necessary airport formalities. “It might do us good after hours and hours of sitting in a small space.”

Martin was on the verge of declining, but his curiosity got the better of him. It hadn’t slipped his mind that their conversation since they had started in Fitton had been about him, even though he had been determined to learn more about Khan. This could be his chance.

They left the airport and took a taxi to the hotel. It looked nicer than Martin had expected, but he suspected Carolyn was trying to make a good impression on Khan, especially since he was working for free and she wanted to keep him for as long as possible. Once they were checked in, they left the hotel and made their way down a small road toward the bay.

“It’s warm, isn’t it?” Martin tried to get the conversation going.

“Is it?” Khan asked.

“Well, it’s much colder in Fitton around this time of year,” Martin shrugged. “It doesn’t get this warm until June.”

“You’re forgetting we are on the southern hemisphere,” Khan pointed out. “You could say it is June here, by your standards at least.”

Martin, deciding the conversation would never turn to Khan if he didn’t make it, asked, “What did you learn during your training?”

“What a sudden change of topic,” Khan answered surprised, “and I can’t answer this question in a few sentences because I learned everything. Survival skills. Operating every vehicle known to man. Hand-to-hand combat. Shooting. You know, whatever a soldier needs to know.”

“So theoretically,” Martin said, “you’d know how to survive on your own. So you’d be fine if you hadn’t met me.”

“Yes, I would have been fine,” Khan admitted. “But it wouldn’t be as … nice.”

Martin pretended to be interested in something he had spotted in the window of a shop so he didn’t have to look directly at Khan.

“What else do you want to know?” Khan continued

Excitement rose in Martin because Khan wanted to share something out of his own free will and not because Martin had pestered him. “What did your training look like?” he asked, his voice full of eagerness. “I mean, besides surviving in a jungle.”

“For the first ten years of my life or so,” Khan told Martin, “I was locked up in a facility near the border between Canada and the US. And when I say locked up, I don’t mean literally. I and my brothers and sisters weren’t allowed to leave the premises without company, but we could go outside whenever we wanted to. During my time there, I received a basic education, reading and writing and the like.

“Later, we were divided into four different groups and sent to four different corners of the world, in case someone was targeting us. This way, it was easier to make sure at least some of us would survive until we were old enough to take up the task of defending Earth. I was sent to a small town in Greenland, together with 19 others, and there our real training started. We learned how to fight and how to survive under the harshest of circumstances. Once a year we were sent to such remote locations as the Brazilian jungle and had to stay alive for a month or more.”

They had reached the bay. It was a calm evening: the water stood still and reflected the lights of factories and industrial plants along both sides. Martin and Khan stopped and looked out across the bay in silence. Martin leant on the railing which was separating the road from the water and Khan stood next to him, his hands behind his back.

“So your training was focussed on becoming a soldier and surviving, right?” Martin asked when Khan didn’t continue. “Rather than on communication and diplomacy.”

“Yes,” Khan confirmed. “The AIPF was under the impression an aggressive approach was the best one.”

Martin didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if this organisation caught Khan and, consequently, what would happen to him. He was the one who was aiding a fugitive.

“There’s something bothering you, isn’t there?” Khan asked without looking at Martin.

“No,” Martin said, “I mean, I don’t know.” He paused, his eyes on the water. “It’s just, what if they catch you?”

“They won’t,” Khan assured him. “They’re only human. And if you’re worried about my brothers and sisters, don’t be. There’s a strict code of honour between us – no one is allowed to hurt the others.”

“But what if they _do_ catch you,” Martin persisted, “what will happen to me?”

“Oh, if this is what you’re worried about.” Martin could hear the sneer in Khan’s voice. “Don’t worry, you’re not important enough for them to use their resources on.”

“But I’m helping you, aren’t I?” Martin pointed out.

“If they should catch you,” Khan said, the sneer vanishing, his voice calm and determined, “I won’t leave you. I will do anything I can to rescue you, I promise.”

Martin didn’t feel relieved, but he felt something akin to honour that Khan would risk his life for him. “I’m sure it won’t be necessary though,” he shrugged. “Nevertheless, I appreciate the offer.”

“Now it’s my turn to ask you something,” Khan changed the topic. “Douglas – why doesn’t he like me?”

“I have no idea,” Martin admitted. “He’s probably scared of you being a better pilot than he is. Or of me admiring you more than I admire him”

“Do you admire him?” Khan asked surprised.

“No, I don’t,” Martin said quickly. “Well, maybe a bit. He’s a brilliant pilot.”

“And do you admire me?” Khan added carefully.

Martin didn’t know how to respond. “Well, I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I mean, you’re interesting and you’ve been to a different planet and you’re ama-”

Martin’s stammered response was interrupted by a loud explosion which made the asphalt beneath their feet vibrate and the water ripple.

“Down!” Khan shouted and flung himself at Martin, pushing him down and shielding him with his body.

“What’s going on?” Martin shouted as another explosion echoed across the water.

“Someone is blowing up the factory over there,” Khan shouted back. “Stay down.” He jumped up again, glaring at the other side of the bay. Then he gripped Martin’s arm and helped him up. “Martin, I need you to do anything I asked of you and follow my orders. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Martin nodded.

“Good, follow me.”


	3. Hyena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Martin and Khan investigate who is responsible for the explosion, Khan blames himself for endangering Martin, while Martin struggles with his new-found feelings for Khan.

Khan was running for cover behind the nearest house and Martin followed his example. This was exactly the action his instincts told him he should take. He leaned his back against the cold wall of the house while Khan peered around the corner, looking across the bay to where an inferno of flames was lighting up the night.

“What’s going on?” Martin whispered.

“Shhhhh,” Khan made.

Martin went silent immediately.

They remained like this for a couple of minutes, Khan watching the factory burn, Martin watching the people who lived in the houses around them coming outside to see what was going on. He could hear the sound of a fire engine in the distance.

“We need to get closer,” Khan finally whispered into Martin’s ear. “I need to find out what’s going on.”

Martin was about to protest when he remembered the promise he had made to Khan to follow his orders. So he swallowed the fear which was rising in him as determinately as he could before nodding his head.

“There’s a harbour a few streets from here,” Khan explained. “We’ll be able to get a boat there.”

Khan jumped out from behind the house and started jogging down the road next to the water. Martin was glad the other people around them were too busy staring at the fire to detect anything. He took a deep breath, as if he was about to dive into a swimming pool, and followed Khan, keeping up with him by running as fast as he could. Under different circumstances, he would have marvelled at Khan’s silhouette illuminated by the fire, at how the surrounding darkness made his uniform appear black (and Khan had been right – black was a much nicer colour for uniforms), and how he could see the muscles on Khan’s back moving. But this was neither the time nor the place to be carried away by such observations.

They reached the harbour, Martin gasping for breath, Khan looking as calm and determined as ever. One strand of his slick-back hair was falling onto his forehead, giving away he had engaged in some physical activity lately.

“Look.” Khan pointed to a small tugboat which was attached to a pier by a heavy-looking rope. “We’ll take this one.”

Martin felt uneasy at the prospect of stepping onto a boat (he had never liked the water much) and sailing toward a firestorm, but he had a feeling this wasn’t the time to bring up his reservations. So he carefully climbed into the boat while Khan untied the rope from the pier.

Khan hadn’t exaggerated: he knew how to operate every vehicle. He started the motor and manoeuvred away from the land in a matter of minutes. Martin stood next to him, grabbing the edge of the console. If Khan picked up on his uneasiness, he decided not to comment on it. But it was more likely he was focused on the task at hand.

“Now, Martin,” he said as they were approaching the other side of the bay, “when we land, I want you to come with me. I don’t know what is going on over there and I’m used to working with a team, so I’m glad for all the support I can get. Do you feel up to it?” Khan regarded Martin with a glance which said he much doubted Martin would be of much use.

“Yes,” Martin said, trying to hide a quiver in his voice. He had never imagined the excitement of working for MJN Air would go beyond a tricky situation Douglas would be able to solve in a couple of minutes.

Khan secured the boat away from the fire and the light at what looked like an abandoned pier. “We shouldn’t announce our arrival for all the world to see,” he told Martin.

Martin had so many questions (like why they were doing this in the first place), but he knew this wasn’t the time to question Khan’s motivations. All he should be focusing on was to get out of this alive.

They sneaked along the shore, carefully avoiding stepping out of the shadows. As they drew nearer to the burning factory, the smell of fire grew stronger and stronger and Martin had to suppress a cough more than once. Khan, however, didn’t seem to mind the smell and the prickling sensation in the throat. Martin couldn’t help but admire him.

Finally, they reached the edge of the factory. An abandoned road let to the main building, which had flames shooting out of every window and door as well as out of holes in the roof. At first glance, Martin couldn’t spot any people, for which he was glad. Having a look was one thing, but saving people out of a burning building – he didn’t feel qualified to do that. But Khan must have spotted something because Martin felt him tense beside him. Khan gripped his arm and Martin was taken by surprise by how soft his touch was.

“Look, over there,” Khan murmured into his ear and pointed at a car which was parked next to a small bungalow. Or at least it looked similar to a car. It had three wheels (one in the front and two at the back) and no roof, like an old jeep.

“What is it?” Martin asked.

“Those belong to AIPF,” Khan murmured.

“Let’s get out of here,” Martin whispered urgently, trying to pull Khan, who still had his hand on Martin’s arm, back the way they had come.

“No,” Khan objected. “I need to find out what is going on.”

“But what if they catch you?” Martin pointed out.

“You agreed to do as I say,” Khan growled.

Martin didn’t dare to object. “All right,” he agreed, “but be careful they don’t spot you.”

Khan looked at Martin with something akin to derision in his eyes. “Do as I say,” he repeated. He let go of Martin’s arm and jogged toward the bungalow. Martin followed him immediately.

Khan crouched down beneath a window. Martin followed his example, not sure why they were kneeling out here in plain sight, when he heard voices. Though there was no light shining out of the window, there was obviously someone inside the building.

“How did you-,” Martin began, but Khan raised a finger and touched it to Martin’s lips to quieten him, so Martin took Khan’s training as explanation for why he had known there was someone inside the bungalow.

Martin’s hearing wasn’t good enough to understand what was being said; all he heard was mumbling. Khan, however, listened intently. There was still smoke in the air and Martin felt hot from running and from being so close to the fire. He leaned his back against the wall for support and let his gaze wander across the burning factory. Later, he was glad he’d been so lazy because otherwise he wouldn’t have spotted the figure who came running out of the flames and toward the bungalow.

“Khan,” Martin whispered urgently, making the other turn his head impatiently. “There’s someone coming.”

Khan’s eyes followed Martin’s outstretched hand and he immediately went from being annoyed with his companion to alert and ready to defend himself. He crouched lower, his hands touching the floor so he would be able to push himself up quickly to face his opponent. Martin didn’t know what he was supposed to do, so he let his gaze wander between the approaching figure and Khan.

“Shit,” Khan whispered under his breath. “Martin, I need you to take cover behind the bungalow. Only come out if I say so.”

Martin knew it would be useless to ask Khan what was going on, so he heeded his command and crawled around the corner of the house. As soon as he had done this, he heard an unfamiliar voice rise above the roaring of the fire.

“Who’s there?”

Martin was still debating if he could risk a quick glance around the corner when he heard a swooshing sound followed by a fist hitting someone and a low grunt. Peering around the corner, he could make out Khan, who was ducking down to avoid a punch issued by a smaller, leaner man in a dark uniform. With one swift movement, Khan hooked his foot underneath the other man’s heel and Martin watched him topple over. Khan kicked him into his stomach, so the man was convulsing in pain, before he gripped him by the collar and punched him so hard, he fell back, lifelessly.

“Martin,” Khan whispered and Martin crawled back out from behind the corner, thankful for the heat and the darkness which were covering up his red face. So this was what Khan had learned during his training.

“We have to get back to the boat,” Khan went on, as soon as Martin had re-joined him. “It’s too dangerous here.”

This was the first time this evening Martin was glad about one of Khan’s commands. He was also grateful for a task which would distract him from what he had witnessed. This wasn’t the moment to think about how Khan had looked when he had fought against the other man, it wasn’t professional to be distracted so easily, and he shouldn’t be glorifying violence. Then again, the other man probably belonged to AIPF, which made him a threat to Khan’s safety, and Khan had every right to defend himself. But before Martin could continue this train of thought, Khan turned around, grabbed him by the shoulder, and flung them both on the ground, rolling into a shallow ditch next to the road.

“There’s a car coming,” Khan hissed in Martin’s ear.

Martin would have liked to examine his left knee which burned as if he had scraped it, but he lay there quietly, following Khan’s example. He heard the sound of wheels against gravel growing louder and louder until the ground was vibrating and a car passed above them, spraying them with little stones and dirt. Khan lay still for another minute before he jumped up again, and Martin pushed himself to his feet as fast as he could, looking much less elegant and agile than Khan, well aware of his uniform being covered in dirt.

They arrived back at the boat without another interruption. Khan didn’t turn on the light inside the cabin; he started the motor and steered the boat up the bay as fast as possible. Martin sank down beside the console, his back against the hard, cold steel, his eyes half closed, gasping for breath.

“That was too close for comfort,” Khan mumbled. “I’m getting slow.”

“What was going on back there?” Martin panted.

Khan turned to him, looking concerned but determined. “Later,” he said. “We have to get to safety first.”

Martin felt too tired to stay awake, but he was also high on adrenaline, so his body refused to shut down. All he could do was to sit on the cold floor of the cabin and watch Khan steer the boat up the bay for half an hour before turning around and navigating it back to Rio Gallegos. Martin knew they wouldn’t be fooling anyone with this because there was nowhere to come from further inside the main land, but he decided to trust Khan to know what he was doing.

Before the floor became too uncomfortable, they reached the harbour at Rio Gallegos and Khan jumped out to secure the boat where they had found it. Martin tried to get up, but his legs wouldn’t follow his command, and he crashed back down to the floor. Khan stuck his head inside the cabin after hearing Martin swear loudly.

“Are you okay?” he asked concerned.

“Yes, give me a minute,” Martin answered, trying to get up again. He didn’t want to look like a fool who couldn’t stand up properly in front of Khan, but his body had other plans. Again, his legs gave in, and he scraped his hand on the rusty floor of the boat.

“Wait,” Khan mumbled, and stepped back into the cabin. He reached for Martin’s arm, gripped him by the elbow, and pulled him up.

Martin had to rely on Khan’s grip and the wall behind him to keep himself steady. If he had been contented with his performance in their adventure so far, he now wanted the floor to open up and swallow him, so embarrassed was he of his own weakness. Khan didn’t let go of his arm and guided him back to the door and half-helped, half-lifted him across the railing. Once Martin had firm ground beneath his feet, he felt confident enough to walk on his own, but stumbled as he tried.

“Wait here,” Khan said, guiding Martin’s hand so it could grip the railing, “I’m gonna go and get a taxi.”

“No, there’s no need,” Martin protested.

Khan looked at him sternly. “Don’t be silly.”

All Martin could do was watch Khan sprint up to the street and pacing up and down on the sidewalk, letting one or two cars pass until he raised his hand, gesticulating one of them to stop. He leaned down to the window and Martin saw him point toward the boat before he came jogging back down and reached for Martin’s hand.

“Come on,” he said smiling. “I’ll make sure you won’t fall.”

Too tired to protest, Martin let Khan guide him to the taxi. Khan didn’t let go of him until Martin was sitting securely on the backseat. He jumped in beside the driver and gave him the address of their hotel. The drive wasn’t long, only a few minutes, but Martin almost fell asleep, lulled in by the lights of the streetlamps passing by. He was woken from his stupor when Khan softly tapped his shoulder.

“We’re here, Martin,” he whispered, “come on.”

Martin had no idea how he had gotten into his bed, but he woke up with the sun shining into his face, finding Khan asleep on a chair next to the bedside table. Khan had changed into dark pyjamas, but he was, again, wearing the coat he had been wearing in Canada. Martin’s attention was drawn to his knee and his hand which were both encased in bandages, and he shivered from the chilly air in his room, drawing the blanket up to his chin.

The movement woke up Khan. “How are you?” he asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes and yawing.

Martin hid a smile. “Better,” he said. “I think I’ll be able to do my own walking from now on. But thank you.”

“I had to carry you up to your room and undress you last night,” Khan pointed out. “So I’d be careful when you try to get up.”

Undress him? Martin shifted carefully to determine whether he was still wearing underwear, but he scolded himself for considering the possibility Khan had undressed him completely.

“Can I get you anything?” Khan interrupted Martin’s train of thought.

“A coffee would be nice,” Martin answered, “but I can go and get it myself.”

He threw back the blanket but Khan was on his feet immediately.

“No, you stay in bed,” he said quickly. “I’ll go downstairs and get you some.”

“There’s no-,” Martin started, but Khan was out of the room faster than he could finish the sentence.

Five minutes later Martin sat in his bed, two pillows supporting his back, an old shirt covering his torso, and a tray of coffee, toast, and fresh fruit in front of him.

“I owe you an explanation,” Khan began. He was sitting on the bed at Martin’s feet, his coat now beside him. “I didn’t mean to put you in harm’s way like this, but I also didn’t want to go alone, and this was selfish of me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Martin said with a wave of his hand. “Just tell me what was going on. Why did you want to get closer to the explosion in the first place?”

Khan shrugged. “Instinct, I think. I’ve been trained to deal with tough situations, anything out of the ordinary. And factories are not meant to explode out of nowhere.” He looked pained, as if he wasn’t convinced by his own explanation.

“Mhm,” Martin made, trying to sound only mildly interested. He took a sip of his coffee and waited for Khan to continue.

“All right, I knew it was going to happen,” Khan gave in. “When I escaped from prison, I hid in a conference room to wait for them to relocate the search for me to the outside so I’d be able to get away unnoticed. Unfortunately, two men came into the room. One of them I recognised as Colonel Blythe, who supervised the last stages of my training. The other one I didn’t know. I heard them talking about a secret mission in the south of Argentina which was scheduled to take place in a couple of days. I know the chances we would be there when it happened and the chances of the target being Rio Gallegos in the first place were slim, but I should have told you about it, I’m sorry.” Khan looked utterly crestfallen, as if he didn’t regret any past mistake more.

Martin was taken aback by how lost and desperate Khan looked. “Don’t worry about it,” he repeated, picking up a blueberry and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger to have something to do. “Why worry me when you didn’t know for certain if anything was going to happen?”

“Yes, but I made the mistake of involving you,” Khan went on. “I told you I wanted you to come with me because I’m used to working in a team. This was selfish.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Martin said dismissively. _I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, seeing you in action_ , he added silently. “But I have one question.” He put the berry in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Wasn’t I more of a burden than a help? I mean, I didn’t do anything but slow you down.”

Khan shook his head. “During training, they taught us it is important never to face a dangerous situation on your own. Let’s say the man who attacked us had captured me, which is highly unlikely, but for the sake of argument. Had I been alone, I would have been lost. They would’ve brought me back to the prison and executed me without hesitation. But if he had caught me while I was in your company, you could’ve saved me.”

Martin burst into laughter at this thought. “Me?” he asked breathlessly. “Save you?” The notion alone was ludicrous.

“Yes,” Khan said honestly. “You saved me when you pointed out the man to me.”

“Oh.” Martin hadn’t considered this as saving Khan. Khan would have spotted the attacker sooner or later and would have taken care of him, without Martin there to help him.

“Remember what we talked about on our flight here?” Khan asked suddenly. “You need more confidence, Martin. You did great out there, there’s no denying it. Don’t think I would’ve been okay without you there.”

Martin cleared his throat and took a bite from his toast. It felt good to be complimented by Khan, better than it felt to be complimented by Douglas or Carolyn. Being a soldier was something he had not been trained to do and yet he had “done great”, in the words of Khan. There was a warm feeling spreading through his stomach which he attributed to the coffee because the other possibility it could signal was too perilous to think about. Fantasising about seeing Khan in action and admiring the smoothness and elegance with which he carried out his movements and being taught by him to be more commanding were one thing (no matter how much Martin had enjoyed those events), but he could not allow himself to have a crush on Khan. The man was a super-soldier running from a dangerous organisation with the task of executing him. Martin did not need his life to become more complicated than it was.

“You’re a civilian, Martin,” Khan went on. Martin felt his face grow hot. “And yet you kept up with me, followed my commands without hesitation, and let yourself being led into a life-threatening situation without complaining once. Tell me again you weren’t useful.”

“No, I see your point,” Martin said.

He flinched in surprise when Khan gripped his hand gently, the same hold he had applied the previous night, not demanding but caring and protective.

“I’m grateful you were there with me,” Khan said earnestly.

Martin cleared his throat again and pulled his hand out of Khan’s grip. He couldn’t allow himself to get used to the feeling of Khan touching him. “Yes,” he said lamely, “it was exciting.”

If Khan was taken aback by the loss of contact, he didn’t let it show. “I wouldn’t have seen the man approach us if it hadn’t been for you. I was too absorbed by what was being said inside the bungalow.”

Martin’s attention shifted from convincing himself he didn’t have a crush on Khan to listening up attentively. “What did you hear? Can you tell me?”

“Of course I can.” Khan smiled at Martin warmly. “You have every right to know what’s going on. Now, there were three people in the bungalow. One I recognised as Colonel Blythe. He pronounces his ds in a strange way; it’s characteristic to his way of speaking; this is the reason I knew it was him. There were also another man and a woman. I don’t know the man, but the woman was Marla. We grew up together, but when I was sent to Greenland, she was sent to another remote location and we didn’t see each other again after that.”

“Do you mean to tell me there was someone there who is like you?” Martin asked surprised. Somehow, though he had known Khan wasn’t the only one of his kind, the possibility that others like him were living on Earth had not occurred to him yet.

“Yes, Marla McGivers,” Khan nodded. “I have to admit, I was so excited to hear her voice, I’d have almost stood up and knocked at the door.”

“So why didn’t you?” Martin asked tentatively, feeling a pang of jealousy replacing the warmth in his stomach. Of course, Khan would choose his people than stay with him. And what if Khan had liked this Marla when they were growing up? They had been young, yes, but seeing a childhood friend again could lead to them discovering feelings for each other. No, Martin was doing it again. He had to get his mind of Khan and he had to stop constructing a weird alternative reality in his head for which he had no proof.

“Because of what they were saying.” Khan’s face went blank as if he was remembering something too harsh and terrible a truth to be put into words. “Apparently, Colonel Blythe has plans to overthrow the leaders of AIPF and take control of the organisation himself.” Khan shook his head in defeat.

Now it was Martin’s turn to reach for Khan’s hand. “It’s fine,” he tried to calm the other, “it doesn’t matter, does it?”

Khan took a deep breath, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in anger. “Why wouldn’t it matter? He’s destroying everything NASA has been working on for so long. Who knows what he has planned for my brothers and sisters.”

“But it doesn’t concern you,” Martin told Khan calmly, gripping his hand more tightly. “AIPF is trying to find and kill you. You should be glad for this development, not get angry about it.”

Khan looked at Martin in surprise, as if he didn’t understand what Martin was saying. “Why should I be glad?” he asked, the anger vanishing from his voice.

“Because whatever this Colonel Blythe has planned, it will distract AIPF from searching for you, making your escape easier,” Martin disclosed to Khan.

“Yes, you’re right” Khan said slowly, thinking carefully about this point, “they won’t have the resources to continue the search for me, not if AIPF is faced with a time of turmoil and struggle.”

Martin ran his thumb across the back of Khan’s hand soothingly. “Do you have any idea why they blew up the factory?” he asked curiously.

Khan’s countenance went stern again. “The factory officially belongs to NASA,” he told Martin, “and unofficially it belongs to AIPF. I think the attack was part of Colonel Blythe’s plan. And I wonder what Marla has got to do with him.”

And they were back on the topic of the woman. Martin took another bite of his toast, acting as if he wasn’t interested in this part of the conversation, but secretly hoping Khan would tell him more about her and his relationship to her. But Khan didn’t. He was lost in thought, possibly trying to piece it all together. Martin knew it was important to Khan to make sense of this situation, but he was scared of Khan leaving him. If his interest in AIPF had been rekindled, he might decide to resign his job and go undercover to find out what was going on. Martin decided to test the water carefully.

“We should probably get dressed and drive back to the plane,” he said casually. “We’re supposed to be leaving this afternoon.”

Khan looked at Martin as if he had just remembered he was in the same room with him. “Yes, of course,” he agreed. “Let’s not dwell on things which can’t be changed.”

“Have you eaten, by the way?” Martin asked, glancing at his half-full breakfast tray.

“Not yet,” Khan admitted. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay first.”

 _And it’s things like this_ , Martin thought. _Why would he look after me? Why would he want to make sure I’m okay?_

“You should eat something,” Martin pointed out, recalling what the captain in him would say and repressing the flutter in his stomach. “We have a long flight ahead of us. And god knows, we’re not in the best condition to fly as it is.” He raised his bandaged left hand.

“Your knee looked bad,” Khan told him honestly. “You’ll need a new uniform.”

“Carolyn won’t like that,” Martin remarked, but he was smiling.

“I should go to my room and shower.” Khan made a motion to stand up from Martin’s bed, but paused when he saw their hands were still intertwined.

“Sorry,” Martin apologised, quickly removing his hand.

“No, its fine.” Khan stood up and walked to the door. “See you later.” He smiled at Martin before leaving the room.

Martin finished his breakfast and stood up carefully and limped into his own bathroom to shower. His hair and skin still smelled of fire and he had refused to look at his uniform which Khan had draped over the chair he had been sitting on when Martin had woken up. Carolyn would make him pay for a new one.

Carefully, he removed the bandage around his left hand to discover Khan had cleaned the graze. He could risk leaving the wound uncovered. But he left his knee alone. From the way it was hurting, the injury had to be graver.

After he had showered, he put on his ruined uniform and left his room. He would knock at Khan’s door and see how he was doing. Or check if Khan hadn’t snuck out of the back door and left him.

His knock was immediately answered by Khan opening the door forcefully. “Are you okay?” he asked concerned.

Khan was still not dressed. A blush crept across Martin’s face when he found himself staring at Khan in his underwear.

“Yes, no,” he stammered, “I thought you might like some company.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “Sure. Come in.”

Martin stepped into Khan’s room, which was an exact replica of his own, and sat down awkwardly on the edge of the undisturbed bed, while Khan vanished inside the bathroom. So he was still here. He hadn’t vanished and gone to investigate Colonel Blythe’s actions by himself. It wasn’t fair, Martin knew it, this sneaking after Khan. If he wanted to leave MJN Air, he had every right to do so. But he couldn’t help himself.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Martin shouted through the half-open bathroom door.

“I can grab something to eat on the way to the airport,” was Khan’s answer.

Five minutes later, Khan had re-joined Martin, dressed in his uniform, which looked decidedly better than Martin’s and they went to check out and call a taxi to bring them to the airport. Martin glimpsed the cover of a newspaper which was lying in the foyer. There was a photo of a burned-out ruin on the title page and though Martin didn’t speak Spanish he could image what the article was about.

“Khan,” he whispered while they were waiting for a taxi outside in the sunshine. “The press knows about the factory.”

“Of course they do, Martin,” Khan said. “Everyone could see it, it’s not a secret.”

“But they might know about AIPF,” Martin continued, still in the same whisper. _And they might know we were there_.

“No, they don’t,” Khan reassured Martin. “AIPF has managed to remain a secret organisation for almost 40 years now.”

“But things change,” Martin pointed out. “The press got a lot quicker and smarter since AIPF was founded.”

“Believe me, Martin. They don’t know anything. I read the article.” Khan smiled at Martin and climbed into the car which had stopped in front of them.

 

As soon as they had stepped onto the plane, the intercom made a short, high-pitched sound, signalling a call from Carolyn.

“Martin, are you okay?” was the first thing she said when Martin answered.

“Yes, I am,” Martin replied, momentarily perplex. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because of the explosion,” Carolyn elaborated.

“Oh, yes,” Martin exclaimed. “I had no idea the news had travelled as far as England.”

“It hasn’t,” Carolyn admitted. “I like to keep informed about what is happening in the countries I send you to. So, is everything okay?”

“Yes, we’re fine, GERTI’s fine,” Martin assured her. “We’re getting ready for take-off now.”

“Good. Well, drop by the office tomorrow morning if you can. I’d like to hear everything about the explosion.”

“Sure, we’ll be there.” Martin turned off the intercom, looking at Khan with, what he hoped to be, an apologetic expression.

“I had no idea she does this,” he said. “I mean, keep tabs on the news.”

“It’s her plane,” Khan shrugged. “She probably likes to make sure everything’s fine with it.”

“No.” Martin shook his head. “Something strange is happening. I’ve never heard her sound so worried.”

“You need to relax, Martin,” Khan told him. “You’re getting all worked up about nothing. First AIPF, then the explosion, then the press, now Carolyn. You won’t make it better by constantly worrying about it.”

“Well, I’m not used to explosions in my life,” Martin snapped at Khan, feeling the strain of this trip bearing down on him.

Khan lowered his gaze to the controls in front of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he mumbled.

“No, it’s fine.” Martin put his hands over his eyes. “But I’m exhausted and worried. I’ve had to deal with so many new experiences these past 24 hours.”

“If you want I can fly for a bit,” Khan offered, “and you can lie down and get some rest.”

“Yes, that would be great, thanks.”

Martin surprised himself by accepting Khan’s offer. Normally, he would’ve declined, pointing out he was the captain and it was his responsibility to get the plane home safely. But today, he was too tired to put up much of a fight, so he thanked Khan again and left the flight deck to lie down in one of the chairs.

 

When he woke up again, it was dark outside. His neck hurt from the uncomfortable position he’d been sleeping in, but he felt more rested and calmer than he had in days. He got up, stretched, and made his way to the front.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Khan greeted him, sounding cheerful. “Feel better?”

“Much better,” Martin answered, gliding into the captain’s seat. “Where are we?”

“We’re about two hours away from Fitton,” Khan informed him.

“Did anything interesting happen while I was asleep?” Martin asked.

“Yes, you missed a dogfight between me and three enemy planes,” Khan informed him. “I saw them coming because I looked out of this window,” he pointed to his right, “and spotted one of them on the horizon. When I tried to hail them, there was no answer, so I went into an extreme descent, did a loop and came up behind the first one, firing at him with everything I had.”

“What a nice story,” Martin interrupted Khan, “but GERTI isn’t a fighter plane. We did manage to fire a missile from her once though.”

“See?” Khan smiled at him again, not the usual smile he used for Carolyn and Douglas, but a real, genuine smile, one he only showed to Martin. “You are accustomed to battle.”

Martin reciprocated his smile.

“No, it was all quiet,” Khan informed him. “I missed the company though.”

“Well, next time don’t drag me into a battle without giving me at least a 24-hour notice, so I can mentally and physically prepare myself,” Martin shrugged.

“How are you going to physically prepare yourself for battle in 24 hours?” Khan wanted to know.

“I’m determined. I can achieve a lot if I want to.”

“I’m sorry, Martin,” Khan suddenly apologised. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this and making my problems your problems. This is the last thing I wanted.”

“No, it’s fine,” Martin assured him. “I-,” but he stopped himself in time before admitting he had enjoyed their little adventure tremendously.

But Khan looked at Martin hopefully. “Yes?”

“I-,” Martin started again. “It’s … well, you … it wasn’t all bad.” It sounded lame, he knew it, but he’d be damned if he told Khan how much he had enjoyed seeing him in action.

“Oh.” Khan sounded intrigued.

“Yes, well, it was interesting to see … what your job looked like,” Martin finished, mentally chastising himself for sounding so stupid.

“Martin, are you trying to tell me you had a good time?” Khan asked carefully.

“Yes, I am,” Martin admitted, relieved this was how Khan understood his stammering. “It … it was a nice break from how trips usually go.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Why should I be mad at you?” This thought hadn’t occurred to Martin yet.

“For endangering you and hurting you and all,” Khan said slowly.

“You didn’t hurt me,” Martin said perplexed. “I managed to do this myself. If anything, you saved me. So no, I never felt as if I was in danger. Not with you there.”

He could’ve slapped himself for saying this last sentence out loud. Khan wasn’t allowed to know, not before Martin had figured out what he was feeling and if he wanted to pursue his feelings or not. He couldn’t allow himself to be so careless and give Khan the impression there was something going on between them. Not if he decided it was too dangerous, not if he decided Khan didn’t like him back, not if he decided to hide his feelings because it was easier, more comfortable.

“I mean, I knew you were trained for this sort of thing, so you would know what to do,” Martin added in an attempt to downplay what he had said.

“And you weren’t, and still you managed to keep up with me,” Khan complimented Martin. “By the way, I have an assignment for you, if you want to assist me,” he added timidly.

Khan had Martin’s undivided attention.

“It might also help to calm you, I don’t know,” Khan went on. “Colonel Blythe mentioned a name, Hyena. This is what he is going to call AIPF should he succeed in his plans. If you want, you could have a look at the news once in a while and check if they mention Hyena.”

“Yes, I could do that,” Martin accepted, glad Khan wanted to further involve him.

They fell into comfortable silence, both either staring at the dark sky outside or checking the controls once in a while. Then Khan enquired about their next trip.

“I think it’s on Friday evening,” Martin informed him. “We’re going to take a CEO to Myanmar.”

“Another long trip.” Khan nodded.

“Yes, and after that, I have a trip with Douglas scheduled,” Martin added.

“Oh.”

They had avoided the subject of Douglas since Khan had asked Martin if he admired him.

“But it’s a short trip,” Martin said quickly. “We’re going to Italy.”

“Do you want to meet up sometime?” Khan suddenly changed the subject.

Martin looked at him in surprise. “Do you mean-?”

“Because you asked me if I wanted to get together with you so we could get to know each other better,” Khan went on, “and I declined because I had to sort things out and find a place to live and so on, but I’ve done this now, so I’m free; we could meet whenever you want. You could show me Fitton or you could come over to my house and I could tell you more about AIPF, things which might come in useful when you monitor them.” He glanced at Martin carefully.

“Sure,” Martin agreed. “I could come by your place on Thursday, if you want to.”

“Yes,” Khan agreed, nodding enthusiastically.  

 

They landed in Fitton in the early hours of Wednesday morning. Martin made sure GERTI was cleaned and properly locked up before he caught a taxi back to his shared house. Khan shared it with him; he got out to say goodbye to Martin with a formal handshake. Martin crawled into bed, feeling utterly exhausted and fell asleep immediately, despite the house coming alive with the shouts of students a short time afterwards.

Martin’s sleep was dreamless and restful, and when he woke up, he felt refreshed and cheery. He went for a shower and the decided to go out to get some groceries. After that he sat down in the park, despite it being a cold day. But the sun was shining and the icy air was refreshing. His thoughts wandered here and there, sometimes coming to rest on specific topics like his upcoming trips, or Khan using the pretence of teaching Martin confidence to get close to him, or the windows in his room which needed cleaning, or Khan undressing him, patching him up, and putting him into bed, or having to tell Carolyn he needed a new uniform, or Khan’s hand on his, protectively, making sure Martin was fine.

 _I have a crush on Khan_.

Martin buried his face in his hands as the realisation hit him. He had a crush on Khan and there was nothing he could do about it, nothing he wanted to do about it. The easiest way was to accept it and hope it would go away.

This was completely irrational. He had known Khan for a week. But then it occurred to him developing a crush on people he had just met wasn’t unusual. He remembered Linda and how all he had needed to hear was she liked planes. Or Martin (Paramount Martin, as Arthur used to call him) who had been similarly unsuccessful in life as Martin and whom Martin couldn’t help but like immediately. Then again, Khan wasn’t particularly interested in planes, nor was he unsuccessful and frustrated with life. No, but Khan was interesting and handsome and a fighter who liked Martin and wanted to make sure he was okay. Martin was honestly surprised he hadn’t recognised his crush earlier for what it was.

His mobile phone chirped in his pocket. He answered.

“Martin.” Carolyn sounded too friendly.

“Carolyn?” he asked carefully.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Martin lowered his phone so he could glace at the screen. “It’s half past two in the afternoon. Why?”

Carolyn didn’t respond to this question.

“Oh my God, Carolyn, I am so, so, so sorry.” He had been supposed to come to Carolyn’s office in the morning and tell her about the trip to Rio Gallegos.

“Just get here as fast as you can,” Carolyn snapped at him.

Twenty minutes later, Martin sat opposite Carolyn in her office. Khan, to Martin’s great disappointment, wasn’t there. Apparently Carolyn thought one person was enough. She made him recount everything he had witnessed, or everything she was allowed to know he had witnessed. Martin told her he and Khan had strolled down to the bay and had witnessed the explosion, but they had returned to the hotel, to be on the safe side, since the explosion could have been anything. They had watched the news for a bit, but since Martin didn’t speak Spanish, he hadn’t understood what was going on. The next day, he had seen the explosion was featured on every local and national newspaper the hotel provided, but since he and Khan had been in a hurry, he hadn’t stopped to have a closer look at them.

Carolyn was convinced by his story, but told him she was disappointed with him for not calling her the minute they had gotten back to the hotel. Martin said he had been too shaken to remember this, which she let pass. She sent him home with a reminder to be punctual on Friday because they were flying a customer and she didn’t want him to have any reason to complain.

Martin went home and spent the rest of the day imagining seeing Khan again. He would have to tell him the story he told Carolyn, so they both had the same versions of events to recount if the subject should come up again. But mostly his thoughts were concerned with how he should react to Khan, now he had acknowledged to himself he had feelings for him. In the end, he decided to let his behaviour be guided by Khan’s. If Khan made a move toward him, he would gladly reciprocate it, but if Khan would treat him as he would treat a friend, Martin wouldn’t let him know about his feelings.

On Thursday afternoon, Martin, freshly showered and shaven, wearing the nicest clothes he had found in his wardrobe walked over to the address Khan had given him. For a moment, he had considered bringing Khan a gift, but he had decided it would be too cheesy. However, he could not stop his heart from racing when he rang the doorbell and heard movement inside the house as Khan came to answer it.


	4. The Flower Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin and Khan fly a CEO to Myanmar. While they are there, Khan works on a scheme to find out what Colonel Blythe's plans for AIPF are, while Martin has doubts if he really wants to be involved with Khan's past.

Martin wasn’t sure what he had expected, but he had never thought of Khan outside his work environment. Therefore, he also hadn’t imagined the clothes Khan would wear on his day off. Thinking of it, it was an oversight on Martin’s part, considering Khan wasn’t likely to be wearing his uniform or his coat when he was at home.

When Khan opened the door, he was wearing simple black jeans and a blue shirt which would have given him a stern demeanour had it not been for the fact the two top buttons were open. Khan looked relaxed and content, the pressure of their trip to South America hadn’t left any visible marks on him.

“Hello,” Martin stammered, not sure where he was supposed to look.

“Hello, Martin,” Khan answered with a smile. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Was it Martin’s imagination or had Khan said this in a flirty tone of voice?

“Did you find the place all right?” Khan inquired while he opened to door wider so Martin could step inside.

“Yes, sure,” Martin nodded. “Where can I put my…?” He got out of his coat and held it up questioningly.

Khan took it from him and put it on a coat rack next to the door, before he gestured for Martin to follow him further inside the house. A long, bright hallway led into a clean, modern kitchen looking out over a garden which would surely be a nice place during the warmer months, but which now gave the place a gloomy look. Next to the kitchen Martin could spot a spacious living room equipped with a TV and a long, comfortable-looking sofa.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” Khan asked and it sounded stiff.

“Sure,” Martin shrugged, eyeing a barstool which stood in front of the kitchen island and contemplating if he could manage to climb up it without making a fool of himself. “What do you have?”

“Tea, coffee, wine,” Khan began to rattle off a list.

“Wine would be nice,” Martin accepted gladly.

He decided against risking sitting down on the barstool and instead leaned against the wall while Khan took out two glasses and poured red wine into them.

“You might not want to do this,” Khan pointed out to Martin who jumped away from the wall which sprang open to reveal a cupboard full of plates.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea,” Martin mumbled while he tried to close it again, but it refused to remain shut.

“You need to do it slower,” Khan informed him after the tenth fruitless try. “Here, let me show you.”

He put his hands against the cupboard and pushed carefully until there was a clicking sound. It stayed shut. Before Martin could apologise again, Khan picked up both their glasses and went into the living room. Martin glared at the cupboard and followed him.

Khan had sat down on one end of the sofa and put the glasses on a small table in front of it. Martin hesitated to join him because he didn’t want to be too close to Khan (it would be too obvious), but he also didn’t want to sit too far away in the hope Khan would hold his hand again or touch him in any other way and Khan wouldn’t be able to do this if Martin was on the opposite end of the frankly offensively large sofa. Martin’s bed at home was twice as small.

When he had finally settled into a position which was still in reach of Khan’s hand but left enough room so their legs wouldn’t touch accidentally, he dared to properly look at Khan for the first time since he had arrived. Khan sat comfortably leaning against the backrest, his left arm resting on his leg, which was lying across the thigh of his other one, his other hand stretching out against the backrest. His body language was relaxed and open, whereas Martin had his hands lying on his lap, his fingers stiff with nerves.

“I need to talk to you,” Martin opened, while Khan took a sip from his wine. “It’s about Carolyn,” he added.

“What about her?” Khan asked.

“I went to see her yesterday,” Martin opened and told Khan the story he had told Carolyn. “So, you know, if she should ask, we can tell her the same story,” he finished.

Khan nodded. “The story sounds plausible enough,” he said. “What did she say about the incident?”

“Well, she wanted to know everything about it, she kept interrupting my story,” Martin answered. “And she was angry, because we didn’t call her the minute we got back to the hotel to tell her about the explosion.”

“What did you say?” Khan asked sternly.

“I told her we were too shaken to think about it,” Martin said and shrugged.

“Hm,” Khan made thoughtfully, “and she believed you?”

“Why wouldn’t she? I mean, normal people aren’t used to explosions in their everyday life.”

“Fair enough.” Khan didn’t look convinced, but dropped the subject. “Have you eaten today?”

Martin was caught off-guard by the question. Why was Khan so obsessed with his eating habits?

“No, I haven’t. I mean, I haven’t had lunch or anything.”

“I can offer you dinner,” Khan suggested. “It’s still a bit early, but if it’s not a problem for you, I can cook us something.”

Martin shook his head. “No, thank you, there’s no need,” he declined. “It’s way too much effort.”

“No, it’s not. I have to cook anyway. And my invitation included food, didn’t it?”

Martin wasn’t sure it did, but he was much too intrigued by the prospect of a proper meal to further object. “But don’t cook anything too elaborate, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Khan stood up and grabbed his still half-full glass of wine. “You can stay here and watch TV if you want to. Or you can join me in the kitchen. It’s up to you. You might be more comfortable here, though, I mean with the sofa and all. But I wouldn’t mind your company. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”

Martin fought hard to hide a smile. “I can join you in the kitchen,” he offered. “I’d be delighted to help you.”

“Good, well.” Khan reached out for Martin’s glass at the same time as Martin wanted to pick it up and their fingers brushed briefly before Khan pulled away quickly. “I’m going to make a start on the tomatoes,” he told Martin before rushing off, leaving him sitting on the sofa.

Martin followed more slowly and lost in thought. Had Khan been thrown off-guard by their bare skins touching or was Martin reading into it what he wanted to see? Khan could have tried to be polite by taking Martin’s glass for him, but after he had seen Martin had the situation under control, he had quickly retreated.

When Martin came back into the kitchen, Khan had taken out a knife and a chopping board and was cutting up tomatoes.

“Do you need help?” Martin asked out of politeness, hoping Khan would refuse. Martin had never been the best at cooking.

“You can boil some water,” Khan said, not raising his gaze. “The pots are in the cupboard over there.”

Martin nodded, thinking to himself he’d be able to do this without doing any greater damage. He put down his glass (not without taking a generous gulp first) and went to get a pot. In order to get from the kitchen sink, where Martin filled it with water, to the stove, however, he had to walk past Khan, who had now moved on to onions. Martin, who was momentarily distracted by Khan’s long, slim fingers holding the knife and chopping the onions with so much ease as if he had been doing nothing else for most of his life, tripped over his own feet and spilled most of the water on the floor and on Khan himself.

“I am so sorry,” he stammered when Khan jumped away surprised at the sensation of being drenched in cold water. “Oh no!” he exclaimed when he saw blood streaming from Khan’s left thumb where he had obviously cut himself. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a scratch,” Khan told him with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Do you have towels or a mob or something?” Martin asked, looking around the kitchen expectantly as if he was waiting for either the one or the other to appear out of nowhere.

“I have a mob in a cupboard in the hallway,” Khan answered. “But don’t worry about it, leave it. I’ll be back in a minute. I need to change.”

“Do you need help?” Martin asked without thinking.

“You can bring me a plaster. It’s in the bathroom. I’ll show you.”

He led Martin to the other end of the kitchen, away from the living room. There was a flight of stairs leading up to the first floor. When they reached the top, Martin was greeted by the sight of a small bedroom which was taken up mostly by the biggest bed he had ever seen. One side of the room was occupied by a long wardrobe which looked similar to the kitchen furnishings, and one side was a glass front which looked out into the garden. Next to the wardrobe was a small door which led into a bathroom.

Khan pointed to it and said, “There’s a box under the sink.”

Martin quickly hurried off, determined to make up for his negligence downstairs. He found the box and the plasters in no time, and after he had cut off a piece which he thought should suffice, he rushed back to the bedroom, only to stop in his tracks and blush uncontrollably.

He had seen Khan undressed before on two separate occasions, but those hadn’t prepared him for the sight of the man dressed in black jeans and nothing else with his back to Martin, looking at three different shirts on his bed, clearly thinking about which one to wear. The muscles on his back moved enticingly whenever he bent down to pick the next one up to let the light fall on it better, so he could determine if it would go with his trousers.

Martin had no idea where to look. Luckily, Khan hadn’t realised he’d returned to the bedroom yet, so he could sneak back and pretend to still be looking for a plaster. But then Khan turned around.

“Ah, Martin, thank you.”

He held out his hand and Martin gave him the plaster. If he had picked up on the state Martin was in, he had decided not to comment on it.

“Now, which shirt do you think goes better with the jeans?” Khan asked, contemplating the selection in front of him.

Martin cleared his throat before he trusted himself enough to speak. “The white one is nice,” he answered.

“But it makes the outfit look a bit formal, doesn’t it?” Khan said, his head tilted to one side. “I’d look like a waiter.”

“How about the red one?” Martin asked, stepping closer to the bed so he could have a better look at the selection.

“It’s not red, Martin,” Khan corrected him. “It’s burgundy.”

“It looks red to me,” Martin shrugged.

“I’d made me look more seductive than the white one, wouldn’t it?” Khan sounded thoughtful.

Martin almost didn’t dare to ask the next question. “Why would you want to look seductive?”

“It’s all part of the act.” Khan turned his head so he was looking at Martin. “Pilots are supposed to be seductive.”

“Douglas thinks so, too,” Martin told him.

“Does he?” Khan’s gaze turned cold. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.” He picked up the red shirt and put it on. To Martin’s regret, he buttoned the two top buttons. “Now, let’s get back to cooking, shall we?” And Khan went to the stairs and quickly vanished from Martin’s view.

Martin stood there, staring at the spot where Khan had been a couple of seconds ago, trying to wrap his brain around what had just happened. One minute, Khan was flirting with him, the next he barked something and vanished without another glance back at Martin. And Martin remembered other instances where he had brought up Douglas in their conversations. Khan had been angry at the thought of Douglas mocking Martin for not earning any money at MJN Air and it was obvious this feeling of hostility was mutual. Douglas also didn’t like Khan, Martin remembered. And when Martin had mentioned he had to go on a trip with his former first officer, Khan had immediately invited him to his place. Maybe Martin hadn’t been wrong. Maybe Khan was interested in him and saw Douglas as a potential rival.

Still processing this realisation, Martin climbed down the stairs to the kitchen, where Khan was busy chopping onions. He had filled a pot with water which was slowly heating on the stove. Martin decided he would avoid the subject of Douglas completely from now on if it meant Khan would treat him nicely again.

“So,” Martin opened unsurely, “do you need any more help?”

“I think you’ve done enough,” Khan answered coldly.

Martin was taken aback by the sudden hostility in Khan’s demeanour, but didn’t want to agitate him further. Instead, he climbed up one of the barstools when Khan wasn’t looking and continued to take tiny sips from his glass of wine. It was best to wait for Khan to continue their conversation. What Martin hadn’t expected though, was for Khan to wanting to talk about the one subject Martin had decided to avoid.

“For how long have you known Douglas?” Khan asked out of the blue.

“For a couple of years,” Martin replied cautiously. “Ever since I started to work for MJN Air.”

“And do you like him?”

Martin shrugged. “I guess.” He had never spent much time on thinking about his exact status of his relationship with Douglas. “He’s nice sometimes. I would say he’s my friend, but I’m not sure if he feels the same way about me. He mocks me all the time for things which are not my fault, like my height or my insecurities as a pilot.”

“And yet you put up with him,” Khan mumbled, and Martin had difficulties understanding him over the sound of the boiling water.

“It’s not as if I have much choice,” Martin reminded him. “Before you, there were two pilots at MJN Air, so we went on nearly every flight together. And Douglas isn’t as bad as you might want to believe. He can be nice if he wants to. And he saved us more times than I can remember.”

“He saved you?” Khan asked surprised, looking at Martin directly for the first time after he had stormed out of the bedroom.

“Yes, he saved us lots of times,” Martin nodded. “MJN Air is on the verge of becoming bankrupt every second trip or so and Douglas always comes up with a clever plan or scheme or whatever he likes to call it, and we come out of the business unscathed. Part of him wants to show off and prove to the rest of us how intelligent and smart he is, but I believe he also cares about MJN Air and Arthur and me and even Carolyn, and he would do anything to protect us.”

Khan nodded slowly. “So he thinks because you owe him your job he gets to treat you like dirt.”

“That’s not what I said.” Martin looked at Khan, feeling utterly confused. “I’ve told you how he can be mean, yes, but he also cares and wants everyone to be save and happy.”

“But why do you like him when he’s always mean to you?”

“Why don’t you like him?” Martin shot back.

Khan shrugged. “I tried to like him, but it’s not as if there was much effort on his part to treat me nicely.”

“Yes, but Douglas is always like this when he meets new people, he’s testing how far he can go. Give him a bit of time and he’s going to turn into one of the best friends you’ve ever had.”

“I don’t want Douglas to be my friend,” Khan spat angrily. “I want to have nothing to do with him.”

Martin felt the sudden urge to back away from Khan. His face had turned into an angry mask and Martin didn’t want to agitate him further by saying something stupid.

“You don’t have to have anything to do with him,” he offered carefully. “All the trips you have with MJN Air are going to be with me.”

Khan looked as if he wanted to add something which would make Martin’s assurance invalid, but he thought better of it and relaxed, the anger gone from his face.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Martin said quickly, wanting to jump out of his barstool and run to Khan to hug him. “You’re not the only one who doesn’t like Douglas.”

Khan gave Martin a little smile before saying, “Well, I hope you’re hungry because dinner’s ready.”

While Khan carefully drained the boiling water, Martin collected two plates and waited for Khan to put the finishing touches to his meal. They sat down close to the glass front looking out into the garden and started to eat. The moment Khan had sat down he jumped up again to refill their wine glasses. This was followed by him offering to get Martin more salt or pepper (whichever he preferred), before remembering he had some bread to go with their meal. It wasn’t until Martin assured him he had everything he could possibly desire that Khan sat down and enjoyed his pasta.

When they had finished their meal, it was getting dark outside. Khan switched on the lights in the kitchen and in the living room, and he invited Martin to join him on the sofa, so he could give him more information on AIPF and what Martin should look out for when searching for them in the news. Martin, however, found it tremendously difficult to listen to what Khan was saying. The meal, the wine and their discussion earlier had made him tired and the sofa was too comfortable to not let his thoughts wander. Sometimes, his gaze drifted to Khan’s throat and he couldn’t help but see Khan had undone the top button of his shirt and how the colour suited him tremendously.

“Should you hear anything about military movement in Uzbekistan, you should immediately contact me,” Khan told Martin.

“Why?” Martin asked sleepily.

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?” Khan wanted to know.

“No, not really,” Martin yawned.

“You wouldn’t make a good soldier,” Khan said, shaking his head fondly.

“I’m sorry, I’m tired,” Martin apologised. “I should probably be going. We have a trip tomorrow and all.”

“Are you sure?”

Martin nodded. “We should get a good night’s sleep. Who knows what will happen in Myanmar.”

Khan smiled at this remark and got up. “Let me accompany you to the door at least,” he offered.

They walked out into the hallway together and while Martin put on his coat, Khan crouched down, pretending to look for Martin’s shoes, and when he stood up again, he had undone another button of his shirt.

“Here are your shoes.” Khan held them out and Martin took them. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yep.” Martin put on his shoes and straightened his coat. “Don’t forget to be there at least an hour early. Carolyn is always nervous when we are flying a customer.”

“I’ll be there,” Khan promised.

“Well … see you tomorrow.” Martin bumped into Khan as they both tried to open the door. “Oh no! I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Khan smiled at him and grabbed Martin’s arm to steady him. “Let me …” He opened the door for Martin, letting in the cold winter air.

“Thank you.” Martin stepped outside, pulling his coat tighter around himself.

“I had a good time,” Khan told him out of the blue.

“Me too,” Martin replied. “The food was good.”

“Well, be safe.” Khan smiled at him. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Martin walked away, not hearing the sound of the door closing. When he turned around and looked back, he could see Khan standing in the doorway, watching him walk away.

 

When Martin got home, he could still feel a prickling sensation on his arm where Khan had touched him earlier. He looked at the spot curiously, surprised to discover the contact hadn’t left a visible mark. He was also astonished when he caught himself counting the hours until he would see Khan again.

Two weeks before, the trip to Myanmar had seemed to him like another exhausting journey filled with Douglas teasing him and Arthur needing supervision constantly. Now he was excited by the prospect of spending another sixteen hours together with Khan in the flight deck.

Martin went for a quick shower before falling into bed. He slept uninterrupted for twelve hours before waking up, having been startled by a dream. In this dream, Khan had been sick and couldn’t make the flight, so Martin had to fly with Douglas instead. Douglas had confessed he and Khan were dating and they wanted Martin to join them in a threesome. Khan had suddenly burst into the flight deck, proposing to Douglas with a song while Arthur had been playing the piano in the background.

Martin went for a steaming hot shower and tried to get the look on Douglas’ face out of his head when he had told Martin about his relationship. He couldn’t remember what he had felt in his dream, but now the prospect of losing Khan to someone else made Martin’s heart clench uncomfortably.

When he arrived at the airfield, one and a half hours too early, he was greeted at the door by Arthur.

“Good morning, Skip,” he shouted excitedly. “Mum’s waiting for you. She wants to brief you on our trip.”

Martin thanked Arthur and went to Carolyn’s office.

“Quickly, Martin,” Carolyn whispered when Martin had knocked and entered, “sit down, before Mr Noonien Singh arrives.”

“Carolyn, are you all right?” Martin asked.

“Yes, yes, sit down.” Carolyn gestured impatiently in Martin’s direction. “I want to talk to you about him.”

“Okay?” Martin looked at her cautiously.

“Do you think he’s fit to fly a passenger?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“I mean, is he nice enough?”

“Does he have to be nice?” Martin asked. “Douglas isn’t nice.”

“Well, but Douglas is Douglas,” Carolyn said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But can I trust Mr Noonien Singh to treat our passengers with respect?”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking me,” Martin answered, “but I can assure you Khan is reliable and polite and no one will find any reason to complain.”

“I’m asking because of what Douglas said the other day,” Carolyn explained, “about us not knowing anything about him and so on.”

“And now you believe he’s a lunatic who will attack our passengers? Because otherwise I don’t understand what you want me to tell you.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Carolyn answered. “I want to make sure we can trust him with a passenger.”

“Of course we can,” Martin assured her. “But if you so concerned, you’re welcome to talk to him about your trepidation.”

“No, no, if you say it’s fine, it’s fine.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“Yes, our customer,” Carolyn changed the topic. “He’s one of the ten richest men in Britain, so don’t do anything stupid to scare him away. He might book us again.”

“I’ve literally been on hundreds of trips,” Martin pointed out. “I can handle this.”

“I wasn’t talking about you,” Carolyn corrected him. “I’m talking about Arthur.”

“So you want me to look after Khan and make sure he isn’t rude to our customers,” Martin summarised, “and you want me to look after Arthur and make sure he doesn’t scare away this guy.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“If you’re bothered by this so much, why don’t you join us?” Martin suggested.

“No, I have things to do here,” Carolyn declined, “but I’m sure you’ll be able to handle this.”

 

“Good afternoon, sir,” Martin greeted the CEO when he stepped onto the plane an hour later, “my name is Captain Martin Crieff and I’ll be your captain for this flight.”

“Really?” the man asked. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Martin froze. “Well … um … yes,” he stammered. “Arthur, would you please show this man to his seat?”

“Everything all right?” Khan asked him as Martin joined him in the flight deck.

“Yes, no,” Martin sighed. “It’s this CEO. He isn’t the nicest of people, is he?”

“What did you expect?” Khan responded. “Those rich guys never are.”

Martin angrily punched a few buttons.

“It’s all right, Martin, we just have to take him there,” Khan pointed out. “It’s sixteen hours and you’ll never have to see him again.”

“But those sixteen hours are going to be hell,” Martin said gloomily.

“No, they won’t be,” Khan contradicted him. “You have me.”

Martin smiled at Khan and Khan reciprocated his smile.

“Now, tell me, Martin,” he began. “What are you normally doing on such long flights with Douglas?”

“Word games, mostly,” Martin answered. “Or we think of a way to annoy the passengers. Well, Douglas does. I think it’s unprofessional.”

“Even when you’re dealing with such an unpleasant guy as the one we have back there?”

“Yes,” Martin answered stiffly.

“We could still have a bit of fun with him, can’t we?” Khan asked with a mischievous smile.

“Why, no, what?”

“Martin, relax,” Khan said, sounding more like Douglas than Martin could ever have suspected him to be capable of. “We can make an exercise out of it. To give you more confidence, if you know what I mean. I can dare you to do something and if you do it, you can set me a task.”

“Fine,” Martin agreed reluctantly. “But if I don’t want to do it, I won’t.”

“I won’t force you, don’t worry.”

The door burst open and Arthur entered.

“Skip, Mr Nu Di Sin, can I get you anything?” he asked. “Tea, maybe coffee.”

“Coffee would be nice,” Khan answered with a smile. “And Arthur, have you served our guest?”

“No, I haven’t,” Arthur responded. “Do you want me to do it now?”

“No, Martin can do it.”

“Are you sure?” Martin and Arthur exclaimed as one.

“If you don’t mind, Martin,” Khan said and looked at Martin with a calm expression on his face.

“Sure, why not,” Martin shrugged. If Khan wanted him to play by his rules, Martin would oblige. He stood up and walked through the galley to their customer.

“Can I get you anything to drink, Sir?” he asked, doing his best not to sound nervous and let the man see how much he was intimidated by him.

“Vodka on the rocks,” was the short answer. He didn’t bother to look up from the magazine he was reading.

“Right away, sir.” Martin did a little bow and immediately chastised himself for it. Luckily, the man hadn’t seen it.

“Arthur, do you have the key for the drinks cupboard?” Martin asked, stepping back into the flight deck where Khan tried to teach Arthur how his second name was pronounced.

“Douglas has it,” Arthur answered.

“Why does Douglas have it?”

“Because he won’t drink the alcohol himself, so Mum gave it to him.”

“But we need it here,” Martin whined. “Our customer wants a vodka on the rocks.”

“We’re also out of ice cubes,” Arthur said thoughtfully. “I can go and put some in the freezer if it’s any help to you.”

“You do that,” Martin sighed. “And I’m going to figure out a way to break into the drinks cupboard.”

“Have you ever broken into anything?” Khan asked interestedly.

“No, I haven’t, but I’ll figure something out.”

“Or you can give up,” Khan reminded him.

“It’s not an option,” Martin mumbled, thinking about if he had ever read something about breaking into cupboards.

“Look at you, all determined.”

Martin looked up at the sound proudness in Khan’s voice. This was all he had needed to cement his wish to fulfil Khan’s task.

“There has to be a spare key, right?” Martin asked, directed at no one in particular. “Carolyn would never let us leave without a spare key for anything. Arthur could lose it.”

“But where could this key be?” Khan asked. “And why didn’t she tell you about it?”

“Because you have it!” Martin exclaimed proudly. “Of course, she would tell at least one of the pilots, and I don’t know anything about a spare key, so you have to have it.”

“Well done, Martin.” Khan smiled, reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, and produced the key to the drinks cupboard.

Martin jumped up and grabbed it. “Thanks.” He rushed into the galley. “Arthur, how are the ice cubes coming along?”

“Oh yes, I forgot all about them,” Arthur answered. “I’m going to do it now.”

Martin unlocked the drinks cupboard, too pleased with himself to be angry with Arthur. He got out the bottle of vodka and filled a glass with the liquid before putting it on a small tray

“I’m sorry this took so long, sir,” he apologised while handing the glass to their guest. “There were minor technical difficulties.”

“I wanted a vodka on the rocks,” the CEO complained.

“There were also technical difficulties with the ice,” Martin went on. “But I can assure you your next vodka will be on the rocks.”

The man huffed and sent Martin away with a wave of his hand.

“Well done, Martin,” Khan greeted him when he stepped back into the flight deck. “I never doubted you’d succeed.”

“My turn,” Martin said eagerly.

“Yes?” Khan asked expectedly.

Martin hesitated. There was something he wanted to ask of Khan, but he wasn’t sure if he could dare to propose it.

“Martin?” Khan inquired when Martin didn’t respond for over a minute.

“I want to ask you a question,” Martin said slowly.

“It’s not a task,” Khan pointed out.

“I know it isn’t,” Martin went on, “but there’s something I’ve wanted to ask you since our trip to South America.”

“You don’t need a game to ask me something,” Khan said, smiling fondly. “I’ll gladly answer any question you have for me. Anytime.”

“Still, I want to ask you now,” Martin responded, not looking at Khan. “It’s a personal question.”

“Yes?” Khan repeated.

“While you were in training,” Martin began and took a deep breath. “When you were in training, did you have time, I mean, was it demanding and were you tired?”

Khan looked at him expectantly. “You want to know if my training was exhausting?”

“Yes and no,” Martin stammered. “I mean, was it too exhausting for you to do other things?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Martin said, feeling his face grow hot. “Like girlfriends?”

“Do you mean if I had a relationship while I was with AIPF?” Khan tried to clarify.

“Yes, exactly,” Martin confirmed, still not looking at Khan.

“No, not really,” Khan said thoughtfully. “There wasn’t much time and our superiors didn’t much like it because it can complicate things. I mean, would you leave behind a person you love if it was the only way to save the planet? It wasn’t forbidden, but it could lead to some uncomfortable situations.”

“So you’ve never had-,” Martin began, but Khan interrupted him.

“But I’m not entirely inexperienced,” he went on.

“Oh,” Martin made.

“I’ve kissed people and I’ve had sex with people,” Khan elaborated. “But none of these relationships lasted long. Is this what you wanted to know?”

Martin nodded. “It’s your turn again,” he said.

“Can I ask you a question as well?” Khan wanted to know.

“Sure,” Martin answered, but secretly dreaded what Khan would ask him.

“Douglas, does he have anyone, like a wife or kids?”

Martin was slightly taken aback by this question. “Why?”

“I answered your question, so please answer mine.”

“He has been married three times,” Martin answered. “And I think he has a daughter. But I don’t think he has anyone at the moment.”

“Hm,” Khan made.

 _What if he doesn’t hate Douglas?_ Martin thought. _What if he’s interested in Douglas but isn’t sure if he would have a shot? Maybe it’s a scam, maybe he’s pretending not to like Douglas so I won’t suspect anything. Maybe he’s purposefully acting as if he is interested in me to distract me._

“It’s my turn again,” Martin quickly interjected.

“And make it challenging this time,” Khan demanded, casually leaning back in his chair.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“That’s not a challenging question,” Khan sighed, “but no, when I was with AIPF there was no one I was in love with.”

“And now?” Martin added, not thinking straight.

“Skip, the UFO needs you.” Arthur burst into the flight deck.

“CEO, Martin, not UFO,” Martin corrected him, rolling his eyes. “Don’t go anywhere,” he added in Khan’s direction, ignoring that Khan looked confused and tense.

“How can I help you?” he asked when he reached the seat their customer had chosen.

“I would like another vodka, this time on the rocks, if it’s not too much trouble for you,” he said flippantly.

“You don’t have to wait for me to bring you one,” Martin pointed out. “You can ask Arthur.”

“I thought you were responsible for the drinks service on board today.”

“No, I’m not.”

“But why did you bring me a drink earlier?” the man wanted to know.

“It was because … never mind.” Martin took the glass from the man.

“Don’t use this tone with me,” the CEO demanded. “It’s hardly my fault no one on board this plane seems to know what they are doing.”

When Martin was back in the galley and sure the man couldn’t hear him, he sighed deeply before preparing the vodka on the rocks. He took it back into the cabin, assuring the man he had used a new glass, which was a lie, and joined Khan and Arthur in the flight deck again.

“Everything all right back there, Skip?” Arthur asked.

“He wanted me to bring him a drink.”

“I could’ve done that,” Arthur said disappointedly.

“Yes, I told him so and he complained.”

“Forget him, Martin,” Khan told him.

“I hope he chokes on his stupid vodka on the rocks.”

“I’m sorry, it’s my fault,” Khan apologised. “I should have never sent you back there.”

“No, it’s fine,” Martin assured him. “I could’ve have refused to do it, but I didn’t.”

“Why? What did you do?” Arthur wanted to know.

“Nothing, it’s not important,” Martin told him.

“All right,” Arthur shrugged. “Do you want any more tea or coffee?”

“Dinner would be nice,” Khan answered instead of Martin.

“Right,” Arthur said, vanishing into the galley.

“Martin, I’m sorry,” Khan apologised again.

“Khan, you don’t have to be sorry,” Martin snapped at him.

Khan lowered his gaze. “Carolyn called while you were gone,” he changed the subject. “She wanted to know if Arthur has done something stupid yet.”

“What did you tell her?” Martin asked, glad to be able to change the topic.

“He’s working on it,” Khan replied.

“I bet she didn’t like this.” Martin smiled to himself.

“No, she didn’t,” Khan confirmed.

 

When they landed in Myanmar, it was early afternoon. The CEO left the plane, mumbling something about never booking a flight with MJN Air again. Martin didn’t blame him, but he was also relieved to see the man go for good. He and Khan had not addressed the topic of their little game again after Khan had apologised. From this point onward it had been a peaceful flight, the one disturbance being, from time to time, Arthur, who brought them food or drinks.

Martin felt exhausted. He couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and lie down. Khan and Arthur had the same plan in mind, so there was no discussion. When they had checked in at their hotel (an establishment which was as nice as the one in South America had been – Martin was sure Carolyn was still trying to impress Khan and he told himself not to get too used to it), Martin closed the curtains in front of his window and fell into bed, trying to find relief from a roaring headache.

It took him forever to fall asleep. The street outside was noisy, filled with shouts and the sound of horns of passing cars. The heat was unbearable, despite there being air-conditioning in the room. When Martin finally fell asleep, it wasn’t for long, and he woke up sweaty and feeling sick. The weather wasn’t agreeing with him.

When Martin went down to breakfast the next morning, he had hardly slept, but his headache was gone and he was getting used to the heat. He found it tolerable immediately when he was greeted by Khan in a white, flowing shirt at the breakfast table. This outfit made him look like a rich, British landowner in India.

“You look horrible,” Khan greeted Martin.

“You’ve had better days yourself,” Martin replied, even though he couldn’t recall a single one. “It’s this damn heat and the noise.”

“I think it’s charming,” Khan smiled happily.

“Well, you would think so, wouldn’t you, what with living in Greenland for most of your life.”

“Coffee, Skip?” Arthur had appeared beside them, holding a tray full of fresh fruit and coffee.

“Oh yes, thank you, Arthur,” Martin replied. “Are you sure you’ll be able to eat all this?” He pointed at the tray.

“Sure,” Arthur shrugged.

“So, what’s your plan for today?” Khan asked when Arthur had vanished to one of the tables nearby.

“We’ll see,” Martin said noncommittally. “I might try the pool or read my book.”

“Or we could look at the city,” Khan suggested excitedly. “I hear there’s an amazing market nearby.”

“But you have to promise me there won’t be any explosions this time,” was Martin’s condition.

“I can’t promise you this,” Khan replied, “but I also know you wouldn’t mind so much. You had lots of fun last time, remember?”

 

Martin decided to join Khan on his walk to this market he was so excited about. The streets were as noisy and packed as Martin had suspected them to be from listening from his window. But Khan strolled through them with so much ease Martin would’ve suspected he had grown up in Naypyidaw. All he could do was follow him as best as he possibly could, while paying attention to not being driven over by one of the small cars or bikes.

“Look, over there,” Khan pointed out a gigantic building to Martin.

It looked similar to a hangar, but the roof was ornamental and the building was so white it hurt to look at it for too long in direct sunlight.

“Is this it?” Martin, who had suspected something similar to a village market, asked.

Khan nodded. “Come on.”

Martin followed Khan’s lead once more. “How do you know about it?”

“I did some research before we came here,” Khan admitted. “A job like ours makes it easy to see the world, and I want to be prepared, I want to see as much of it as possible.”

It had never occurred to Martin to look at what a country he had to fly to had to offer. Mostly, he sat around in his hotel room and waited for when it was time to fly back to Fitton.

“Would you look at this?” Khan exclaimed once they had reached the entrance to the market.

Martin’s eyes fell on a sea of colours. He couldn’t decide where to look first. The market seemed to consist of flowers of all colours and sizes. It smelled as if someone had opened and emptied every single bottle in a perfume store.

“It’s amazing.” Martin breathed the smell in deeply and regretted it immediately because his headache was returning with a sharp pang.

“Let’s have a look around,” Khan decided, and Martin had never seen him look more excited.

They stepped into the market and fought their way through the merchants who all tried to get them to buy flowers. Martin kept close to Khan who seemed to have a talent to respectfully and calmly decline each and every offer.

“Do you want something to drink?” Khan asked and pointed to the back of the market where Martin could spot a couple of booths.

Martin nodded and Khan told him to wait for him here while he bought the drinks. He used the few short moments to let his gaze wander around the market, skimming the crowd for other tourists. However, he and Khan seemed to be the only foreigners.

Khan appeared at his side again, holding two cups with a yellow liquid. “Drink it,” he told Martin, “it’s refreshing.”

They both took a sip and Martin had to agree with Khan. His headache was getting better.

“Now, I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” Khan suddenly said. “I had an ulterior motive for bringing you here.”

Martin felt his heart beat faster at those words. Would Khan tell him now what Martin had been suspecting, how he was either in love with him or Douglas?

“We’re meeting someone,” Khan went on and Martin’s heart dropped. “I told you about Marla, remember?”

“The woman you saw in South America, the one who is working for Colonel Blythe?” Martin asked surprised. This was the last person he had expected to turn up here.

“Yes,” Khan nodded, “I made contact with her shortly after we got back and she told me we could meet here?”

“But why?” Martin asked and it sounded horribly demanding to his ears. “Why would you meet with a woman who is working for an organisation which is trying to kill you?”

“Well, technically, Marla isn’t working for AIPF, is she?” Khan pointed out.

“Yes, she is working for a man who wants to destroy everything NASA has worked for,” Martin spat. “A few days ago you condemned his actions and were angry with me for saying it isn’t so bad AIPF is distracted so they won’t chase after you. And now you’re meeting her here. Why?”

Khan looked taken aback. “It’s none of your business –”

“You made it my business when you decided to drag me to this market and involve me.”

“Please, Martin, let me finish,” Khan said calmly. “I’m going to tell you because I value your company and your advice.”

Martin didn’t know what to say. He still felt like shouting at Khan, but he also wanted to apologise.

“So, please, Martin, for a few minutes, be quiet and listen to me.”

“Fine,” Martin agreed.

“As I’ve told you, Marla and I were friends when we were growing up, but we were separated when our training became more serious,” Khan began. “When I contacted her, I had the hope she would be as excited to hear from me as I had been when I heard her voice back in Rio Gallegos. And before you ask, no, I wasn’t scared she would betray me. She can’t. The code of honour, remember?

“She wasn’t as excited as I had hoped. Rather, she was surprised and disturbed to hear me contact her because she had thought I was dead. Apparently, AIPF has kept my escape a secret. I told her I had overheard her conversation with Blythe and I was interested to hear more about their plans. Naturally, she assumed I wanted to join them because AIPF wanted to kill me. I asked if we could meet and told her I would be here in a couple of days and she agreed to fly over.”

“You still haven’t told me why you are doing this,” Martin pointed out. “I thought we had agreed to ignore Colonel Blythe and whatever he is doing.”

“You don’t get to make this decision, Martin,” Khan said coldly. “It is my family, so I get to decide what I want to do.”

Martin tried to hide how hurt he was by this comment. Instead, he focused on the situation at hand. “And what’s your plan when this Marla shows up?”

“I’m going to ask her what is going on and I will decide if it is harmless enough to ignore it or if I need to save AIPF.”

“Save them?” Martin exclaimed, his own voice ringing in his ears. “Khan, they are trying to kill you.”

“I know, Martin, you keep reminding me of it,” Khan sighed exasperated. “You don’t have to be a part of it, you can leave if you want to; no one is forcing you to be here.”

Martin wanted to leave to teach Khan a lesson, but he also didn’t want to let him out of his sight and he wanted to meet Marla to see for himself what her relationship with Khan was.

“No, I’m staying,” he told Khan. “I want to look after you.”

“How nice of you.” Khan’s tone of voice was still cold. “But I’m capable of looking after myself, thank you very much.”

“Fine, I want to stay,” Martin sighed. “Whatever this is, I want to be a part of this.”

“Then follow my lead,” Khan said, “and don’t do anything stupid.”

“As if I’m the one who’s constantly in danger,” Martin mumbled under his breath.

Khan joined the crowd again, moving back the way they had come, scanning the masses for a familiar face. Martin followed him, feeling hurt and a bit betrayed, but determined not to leave Khan out of his sight. If he wanted to put himself in danger, so be it, but if there was anything Martin could do to prevent Khan from getting hurt, he would do it without a moment’s hesitation.

Khan exited the market the way they had come in and looked around. “She’s late,” he remarked, looking at his watch.

“Or you overlooked her,” Martin said a bit out of breath. He was glad to be outside, away from all the people. “It’s cramped in there.”

“No, I wouldn’t overlook her,” Khan said, screwing up his eyes and using a hand to shield them from the sunlight. “She’s late, nothing more.”

“I can help you look,” Martin offered. “What does she look like?”

“It’s not necessary,” Khan declined, “there she is.”

He pointed toward a woman who was crossing the street to join them. She had an oval face and long, red hair and she was wearing an outfit similar to Khan’s, but had sunglasses over her eyes, and was carrying a large, brown portfolio. If Martin hadn’t known who and what she was, he would have thought she was nothing more than a tourist on her way to look at the market.

“She hasn’t changed a bit,” Khan mumbled next to Martin.

Martin doubted she had looked the same as a ten-year-old girl but he refrained from telling Khan so.

“Marla,” Khan shouted, raising his hand and waving enthusiastically.

Marla acknowledged them with a brief nod of her head before stepping back to avoid a bicycle. With each step she took toward them, Martin felt himself growing more and more nervous. He wasn’t so sure now if he wanted to meet her after all and if he wanted to see her and Khan together. But then she had joined them and it was too late to back out.

“Khan,” she greeted him in a light, happy tone of voice and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hello, Marla,” Khan replied and hugged her.

“And who’s this?” She turned to Martin and looked at him with interest.

“This is my colleague, Martin Crieff,” Khan introduce Martin to her.

Martin flinched slightly at the use of the word colleague, but it was what he was, Khan’s colleague, nothing more.

“So this is Martin,” Marla said with a knowing gaze toward Khan before she kissed Martin on the cheek as well. “Khan has told me all about you.”

“Has he?” Martin looked at Khan questioningly.

“Why yes, he couldn’t shut up about you.” Marla winked at him. “You’ve made quite an impression on him, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Martin stammered and saw Khan’s face had turned bright red.

“Yes, you have,” Marla assured him. “You should hear the way he talks about you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s in –”

“Marla,” Khan interrupted her, an edge to his voice. “We don’t have much time, so if we could get going.”

“Yes, of course,” Marla agreed. “I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away there.” She linked arms with Khan. “So, where do you want to go?”

Khan pointed to the market and they went inside again, Marla and Khan in the lead, Martin following them, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.


	5. With His Own Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During their time in Myanmar, Martin and Douglas both realise that there is something between them. Back home, Martin has to struggle with Douglas demanding to know an answer to the question who Khan really is.

Khan and Marla led the way back to the booths so Marla could get something to drink. All the while Martin observed them closely; their arms were still intertwined and they were whispering secretively, but Martin did not mind in the least. Instead, his eyes wandered between Marla and Khan, not daring to believe what Marla had tried to say.

_You should hear the way he talks about you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s in –_

There was one way this sentence could end and it was with the word love. But Khan couldn’t be in love with him, could he? Someone like Khan, a fugitive running from a secret organisation, a super soldier who had been to another planet, a strong, handsome, intelligent, confident man could never be in love with someone as small, awkward, and self-conscious as Martin.

From time to time, Marla looked back at him, making sure he was still following them. Once, she nudged her head in Khan’s direction and winked, making Martin blush. Khan, however, seemed determined on ignoring Martin. He looked straight ahead, goal-oriented as always. When they reached the open space in front of the booths, Khan was forced to talk to Martin when Marla left them standing when she went to get herself a drink.

“So,” Martin began in an attempt at small talk.

“Not now, Martin,” Khan snapped. He looked more worried than Martin had ever seen him.

“She is nice,” Martin went on, determined not to let Khan avoid him like this.

“Five minutes ago you refused to meet with her,” Khan replied, glaring at Martin.

“Well, I hadn’t expected her to be so …” He couldn’t think of a word to describe her other than _helpful_.

“I need you to focus on the task,” Khan ordered, sounding like a commander preparing his troops for battle. He crossed his hands behind his back and straightened up. “We are here to determine whether we should ignore the threat Colonel Blythe poses for AIPF or if we need to prevent him from doing any more damage. Personal matters, no matter how urgent they might seem to you, need to be ignored. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Martin responded, stifling a smirk. There would be enough time to talk about this later, he told himself. And he would talk about it, he promised himself this.

“Marla,” Khan shouted relieved when he spotted her making her way back toward them.

“Hey, no need to look so relieved,” she said, nudging him in the ribs. “I was gone for not more than a couple of minutes.” She took a sip from her drink. “Now, what do you want to know?”

“Are we going to talk here?” Martin asked, scanning the crowd unsurely.

“First rule of going undetected, Martin,” Marla told him, “is to meet in a crowded place so you won’t draw attention to you.” She turned back to Khan. “Now, Khan, are you thinking of joining us?”

“I’m not sure,” Khan mumbled. “What’s your plan? And why are you doing this in the first place?”

“Oh, the second question is easy to answer,” Marla shrugged. “After you went to this planet and blew it up, people at AIPF became restless. There were a handful of officers who had known about the plan and the others felt betrayed. If it had been up for discussion, the planet would still be there. Some of us were also outraged by having lost so many of our brothers and sisters. Colonel Blythe was the first one to call for a re-organisation – out with the old, in with the new, and so on and so forth. Naturally, the bosses weren’t happy about the fuss he was making, threatening him with redundancy, so he shut his mouth and went underground; not literally, of course.

“He knew who of us would be loyal to him; he knew who he had to ask for help. I was one of the people he came to. After this thing … and we thought you all had died. I wanted to see someone punished. So I agreed to help him overthrow the leadership. When you came back, Colonel Blythe and those helping him were relieved. At least one of you had survived and would be able to confirm how cruel and unnecessary it had been to kill everyone on the planet. But they caught you and sentenced you to death and there was nothing we could do, not even Colonel Blythe who was forced to keep his head down if he wanted to go through with his plan. We agreed it would be best so sacrifice you, for the greater good, you see?

“But you broke out of prison and they were all so angry and we knew this was the time to strike because they were distracted looking for you. So Colonel Blythe went to Rio Gallegos to blow up the factory where AIPF manufactured most of their weaponry. He thought it would be best to hit them where it would hurt the most. Of course, the outrage back at headquarters was bad. They immediately suspected Blythe but could not prove anything.”

Marla paused to take another sip from her drink, giving Martin the opportunity to worry about Khan’s reaction to this story. It was unlikely he would turn his back on the affair and leave AIPF, Marla, and Colonel Blythe be. Fighting for justice for his dead brothers and sisters was exactly what Khan would want to do.

“And what are you going to do next?” Khan asked her.

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss this with you unless you join us,” Marla said. “Look, if it were up to me, I would tell you everything, but Colonel Blythe is not sure if he can trust you, so he needs an answer from you before I can tell you more.”

“Colonel Blythe knows you’re here?” Martin asked concerned.

“Of course he does,” Marla laughed. “I have to inform him of my movements. He always knows exactly where I am, what I’m doing, and to whom I’m talking.”

Martin glanced at Khan, but Khan didn’t display any emotions. His face was stoic.

“So, what do you think?” Marla asked nonchalantly. “Are you joining us?”

Martin wanted to grip Khan’s arm, pull him aside, and whisper in his ear how it was a bad idea, how he shouldn’t trust Marla and especially not Colonel Blythe, and how everything would end in destruction. But he couldn’t do this in front of Marla; all he could do was to sit and wait and see what Khan would decide.

“Can you tell me what Colonel Blythe’s plans are once he takes over AIPF?” Khan asked, sounding thoughtful.

 _If he takes over_ , Martin corrected Khan in his thoughts.

“Yes,” Marla said excitedly. “Nothing’s going to change much. He still wants to use AIPF to protect the planet and so on and so forth, but he’s going to share the knowledge we’ve gathered with the rest of the world, so everybody may profit from it. He’s also going to appoint a new leadership consisting of the people who helped him along the way. I’m going to be one of them and if you decide to join us, I’m sure we can also find a spot for you. Blythe is going to be the leader of AIPF, he’s going to be higher up in the hierarchy than we will be because he is the leader and the initiator of our enterprise. What’s wrong?”

Martin turned to look at Khan who had an expression on his face similar to what Martin imagined it to be should Carolyn ever ask Khan to go on a trip with Douglas. But as soon as Marla remarked on it, his face went back to the stoic look.

“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly assured her. “It’s my back. All this sitting I have to do these days, my body is not used to it.”

Marla look at him doubtfully but continued. “So, you see, you don’t have to worry about anything. Colonel Blythe won’t destroy AIPF or turn it into his private army or whatever your concern were. He’s going to use it to help others.”

Martin couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing. “And you believe him?”

“Martin,” Khan said warningly.

“No, but seriously, have you never seen a film, Khan?” Martin turned to Khan, ignoring the look of confusion on Marla’s face. “This is what every bad guy ever says. ‘Help us get this dangerous weapon, we are going to use it to bring you world peace’.”

“Martin, enough,” Khan snapped.

“No, but he’s right,” Marla interrupted, making Martin and Khan turn to her, startled. “He doesn’t know better, Khan. You don’t, do you?” she addressed Martin. “You live in a world full of spy movies where there is a script for what bad people do and what good people do. But this is not how reality works. Usually, in real life, when a man says he’s going to help society, he will.”

Martin opened his mouth to disagree, but Khan was quicker.

“I don’t know Colonel Blythe well,” he admitted, doing his best at ignoring Martin by moving closer to Marla, “but I don’t have any proof for what you are telling us to be wrong.”

Martin involuntarily made a strange sound.

“I also don’t have any proof he is telling the truth,” Khan continued. “If I were to join you, I would be risking a lot. Nobody says Colonel Blythe isn’t going to arrest me on the spot. This could be his plan for all I know. And there is nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. I’m not saying I’m not going to think about it. I will. I will consider your offer and I am grateful to you for meeting me here. But you can understand I need some time, can’t you?”

“Of course I can.” Marla put her hand on Khan’s arm reassuringly. “I hadn’t expected you to join us now. Think about it. Take as much time as you need. We’re not going anywhere.” She winked at Martin who did his best to keep a straight face. “You know how to contact me when you’ve reached a decision.”

“Yes,” Khan nodded. “And I promise to stay in touch.”

“Good, good,” Marla said happily. “I still have some time, we can get something to eat if you want to.”

“Sure,” Khan agreed.

“Martin, will you be joining us?” Marla addressed Martin.

“I’m not -,” Martin began, but Khan interrupted him.

“Of course he will. Right, Martin?” He smiled hopefully at Martin and Martin, who didn’t want to tag along while Khan talked with Marla about the good old times, nevertheless agreed.

They went back to the hotel and ate lunch at the restaurant there. Martin sat still for most of the meal, listening to Marla and Khan talking about their childhood and their training, all the while hoping Khan would decline Marla’s offer. He knew it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want Khan to leave him, not now when there might be a chance Khan could be falling in love with him. He also didn’t trust Blythe, despite not having seen or met the man. He also didn’t trust Marla. He liked her, but he didn’t trust her.

When they had finished their meal, Marla told them she had to get back and they said their goodbyes. Khan promised again to stay in touch and Marla hugged him and Martin, whispering into Martin’s ear he should take good care of Khan. She walked away, waving back at them before vanishing behind a corner.

“Don’t ever do this again,” Khan suddenly snapped at Martin, bracing one hand against the wall behind Martin, decreasing the space between them by leaning closer. “Don’t ever disrespect her again. Understood?”

Martin nodded, too shocked to say something.

Khan leaned closer and whispered. “She knows exactly what she is doing and when she says I can trust Blythe, I can.”

“But you said -,” Martin began, but was interrupted by Khan raising a finger and putting it against Martin’s lips.

“Shut up and look intimidated,” he whispered urgently.

“What?”

“Now carefully glance around my shoulder,” Khan ordered. “Slower! Now, is she still watching?”

Martin moved a bit to the left and looked at the street. He spotted Marla pocking her head around the corner she had disappeared behind.

“Yes,” Martin whispered back.

“Okay.”

Khan suddenly gripped Martin by the collar and pulled him back inside the hotel. As soon as they could not be spotted from the street Khan let go.

“This ought to do it,” he said contently.

Martin stared at Khan confused. What was going on? One part of him wanted to demand an explanation from Khan for his sudden change of mood and temper, while another part wanted Khan to grip him by the collar again and whisper roughly in his ear. However, he decided to pursue his first concern first.

“What was this all about?” he asked, panting slightly.

“In a second.”

Khan strode over to the elevators and pressed the button. Martin followed him, keeping a wary eye on Khan’s face. Khan looked happy and content, and when his gaze wandered to Martin, he looked at him proudly, as if Martin had achieved something Khan had thought was unattainable to him.

When they had stepped into the elevator and the doors had closed behind them, Khan leaned closer to Martin and whispered in his ear: “Martin, you’re amazing.”

Martin felt his face grow hot and he did not dare to look at Khan. Instead, he grinned down at his feet.

As soon as the hotel room door had closed behind them, Khan pulled Martin into a tight embrace. Martin was still busy cherishing the feeling when Khan let go and started talking.

“You have no idea how useful you were today,” he opened. “I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“But why were you angry with me?” Martin asked, slinging his arms around himself in an effort to preserve some of the warmth Khan’s hug had offered him.

“I wasn’t,” Khan objected. “Look, it’s like this. I had never planned on joining Blythe and Marla. I said it to get her to trust me. But I also didn’t want her to suspect I was using her. You voicing all your doubts gave me the possibility to contradict you and so I didn’t betray Marla’s trust in me. It still sounds as if I’m considering it because I didn’t have to openly decline her, do you understand?”

Martin wasn’t entirely sure what he had done to deserve all this praise, but he nodded nevertheless. “But downstairs … what did you … what was this about?” he stammered.

“Oh,” Khan said with a dismissive wave of his hand, but growing slightly red in the face. “Nothing.” He said down at the edge of his bed, pointing to a chair opposite it, offering it to Martin. “I wanted to make sure Marla would tell Blythe I’m angry with you, you know? You’re not a target if they think I don’t like you much. I mean, with Marla thinking …” His voice trailed off.

Martin met Khan’s gaze, both of them letting it hang there in the room between them. Neither of them was willing to say it out loud. Martin didn’t dare. Not now when everything seemed to be changing so rapidly. And Khan? Who knew about Khan, but he always did what he wanted, so why was it so hard for him to finish this sentence? Martin tried to read what he was supposed to do in Khan’s eyes, but he couldn’t tell if Khan was looking at him in admiration or begging him to finish the sentence and give them both relief.

“So you won’t be joining Blythe?” Martin asked after an eternity.

Khan sighed, dropping his gaze. “No, I won’t. You’re right with what you were saying to Marla. What Blythe wants to do does not sound like an honest proposition, it sounds like propaganda. It also sounds as if I would have to fight against my brothers and sisters who are not on Colonel Blythe’s side and I’m not willing to do this. But thanks to you, Marla and Blythe have no idea what I’m going to do, so we’re not in any immediate danger.”

“Are we’re going to be in danger once you reject the offer?” Martin asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be.” Khan gave him a reassuring look. “Not after what I made Marla believe downstairs. But it’s likely they will consider me a threat and do the best they can to eliminate me.”

“We can’t let this happen,” Martin exclaimed determinately.

“I doubt they will be successful as long as you are around,” Khan said earnestly.

Martin lowered his gaze and stared at the floor. Should he say it? Could he risk it? Should he get up, kneel down in front of Khan and kiss him? The notion! Martin would never be able to do something like this. And certainly not to someone like Khan.

“Will you …,” he stammered instead. “Will you be going back to AIPF? You know, to warn them?”

“No,” Khan answered. “It’s not worth the risk. From what Marla said, it sounds as if Blythe is a manipulative idealist whom AIPF will have no problem stopping. And if I were to go and warn them, who do you think will they believe: a fugitive who’s been sentenced to death or one of their leaders? No, I’m where I belong.”

“Good, good,” Martin murmured, feeling relieved.

“Which does not mean I won’t be keeping an eye open for any movements on either side,” Khan added. “But for now, my place is with MJN Air; and with you.”

Martin clenched his hand into a fist in an effort not to jump up and either kiss Khan or punch him in the face. Neither of this options was a good strategy.

“We have an early start tomorrow; we should get some sleep,” he said instead.

“It’s five in the afternoon.” Khan smiled at him warmly. “You can’t tell me you want to go to bed now.”

Martin shook his head. “No, I don’t know,” he answered.

“We could watch some TV,” Khan suggested, shrugging his shoulders. He pointed to a television on Martin’s left side. “I bet they have channels in English.”

“Okay,” Martin agreed. “Do you want me to move the chair or shall I –”

Khan interrupted him. “You can sit next to me on the bed, it’s big enough.”

Khan propped up the cushions against the headboard and kicked off his shoes before sitting down on the right hand side of the bed, his legs stretched out, looking comfortable and content. Martin hesitated for a moment. He wanted to join Khan, but he also knew he would spend the rest of the evening trying to get himself to touch Khan’s thigh or hold his hand or do anything which would let Khan know he wanted him without ever doing any of these things. And in an effort to hold himself back, he would seem tense and anxious and Khan would think Martin hated spending time with him and they would go back to having a working relationship, but nothing more. But Khan put an end to Martin’s thought process.

“Could you pass me the remote control, please?” he asked, sounding casual, as if sitting in bed with your captain and watching television was the most normal thing to do.

Martin grabbed the remote control, which was lying next to the television, and leaned across the bed to hand it to Khan. He didn’t dare throw it because he was worried about hitting Khan in the head. He untied his shoelaces, slipped out of his shoes, and put them next to the bed, before sitting down next to Khan, his legs bent, his arms embracing them.

“What do you want to watch?” Khan asked, turning on the television.

“Whatever’s on,” Martin shrugged.

“We might find a movie with those kind of bad guys you’re so keen on,” Khan said, flicking through the channels so fast Martin couldn’t tell what sort of programme he had seen.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“The bad guys you were telling Marla about,” Khan explained. “You know, the ones who pretend to be philanthropists and then they stab you in the back with a fork or something.”

Martin laughed. “Have you ever seen a film?” he asked.

“No,” Khan shrugged. “There wasn’t much time, what with trying to save the planet and all.”

“Okay, okay,” Martin said, reaching over to grab the remote control, but Khan stretched his arm over the side of the bed so Martin couldn’t reach it.

“Give me the remote,” Martin demanded.

“Why?” Khan wanted to know.

“I can choose a good film.”

“You don’t need the remote, you can tell me when you spot one.”

“But you’re changing the channels way too fast,” Martin complained. “Now give me the control.”

“Is this an order?” Khan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Martin answered determinedly.

“Always the captain.”

Martin blushed. “Yes, no, I mean –” he stammered, suddenly realising what he had been saying.

“I have to listen to every order you give me, captain,” Khan added, his voice low.

Martin didn’t need to ask himself if Khan was flirting with him or not. No one could mistake Khan’s intentions now. After a short pause, Martin decided to go with it.

“You’re right,” he said, clearing his throat. “Now hand me the remote.”

“As you wish, captain.”

Khan pressed the remote control into Martin’s hand, but not without a lingering touch. Martin cleared his throat once more and turned his attention to the television. He started flicking through the channels, determined not to look at Khan.

“Ah, here,” he said after a while. “This one’s good.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Khan move his attention from Martin to the television.

“What’s it about?” he asked in a normal voice.

“It’s about James Bond; you must have heard of James Bond.”

Khan shook his head.

“Okay, he’s this spy,” Martin began, “and he’s always travelling to these remote places, saving the day, and so on and so forth. Watch it, it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

He turned up the volume and dropped the remote control on his right side where Khan wouldn’t be able to reach it without making an effort. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, turning his attention to the television.

“Now, this wouldn’t work,” Khan exclaimed after they had been watching the film for five minutes in silence.

“Why not?” Martin asked, eager to learn something from Khan.

“Come on, do you think you could use an earring to open handcuffs?” Khan sounded exasperated.

“Why not?” Martin shrugged. “I haven’t tried yet.”

“I can teach you how to open them during our next long flight,” Khan offered.

“Please,” Martin agreed and turned his attention back to the television before he could think about what it would be like to be handcuffed by Khan.

They watched the rest of the film with Khan pointing out how this and that was illogical every five minutes and Martin attentively listening to his explanations. When it was over, Khan ordered something to eat and they watched a romantic comedy while eating burgers. Khan didn’t criticise it as much as he had criticised James Bond. Instead, he kept asking Martin questions about falling in love and if it was realistically portrayed.

“No,” Martin answered, not making eye contact. “However, I’m not the right person to ask such a question.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have much experience,” Martin admitted stoically.

“And there’s no shame in it,” Khan added. “But you must know how people usually meet. It’s not because of a bet, is it, like here?”

Martin shook his head. “It’s harder the older you get. I haven’t met anyone new in ages and the people I see on a daily basis aren’t what I’m looking for.”

“Oh?” Khan made and Martin regretted not having worded this last sentence with more care.

“Yes, this is how people usually fall in love,” he quickly went on. “You meet someone new and you ask them out on a date and if it goes well, you go on another date and so on.”

“Have you ever been on a date?” Khan wanted to know.

“Yes, I have,” Martin told him.

“What do you do on a date?”

“Anything,” Martin shrugged. “Whatever interests you both, I guess. You can go to the cinema and have dinner – the classic. Or you can do something more exciting.”

“What do you normally do?” Martin looked at Khan for the first time since he had taken the remote control from him. “I mean, what are you interested in?”

“Aviation,” Martin answered immediately without hesitation.

“Good, I’ll keep it in mind.”

They went back to watching the movie, but Martin could not concentrate on it anymore. He had not been particularly interested in it in the beginning, but now he was thinking about Khan finding out what Martin’s perfect date looked like, and saying he’ll remember it. Khan was planning a date for them, a date on which Martin would have an excuse to touch him and maybe kiss him. If he timed it perfectly, this thing between them could work.

Martin was so comfortable in his fantasy of dating Khan he didn’t notice how drowsy he had become and how the soft background noise of the television and the warm body next to him were making him sleepy. He didn’t fight falling asleep; in fact, it seemed the most natural thing to do. The last thing he caught was Khan reaching over his legs and taking the remote control back so he could switch off the television.

 

Martin woke up to a strange sound which he soon identified as an alarm clock. He stretched and yawned before opening his eyes. Khan was lying with his back to him, also waking up and stretching. He had changed out of his white shirt and was now wearing an old, grey T-shirt which was a little bit too tight. Martin could see every muscle on his back move.

“Good morning,” he mumbled softly.

Khan turned over quickly, so he was facing Martin.

“Martin, you’re here,” he observed. “I thought you might have gone back to your own room.”

“Should I’ve done so?” Had Khan asked him to do so?

“No, no,” Khan assured him. “I had hoped you would stay.”

“We should get dressed,” Martin pointed out, but this time he was not trying to get out of a situation which made him uncomfortable. In fact, he wanted to wake up next to Khan every morning. To let Khan know he wasn’t running away this time, he put his hand on Khan’s arm reassuringly. The skin felt nice, all warm and soft, but also as if the muscles beneath could kill a grown man.

Khan’s gaze flickered from Martin’s face to the hand on his arm. He bit his lower lip as if contemplating something. He leaned in closer and closer and Martin could feel his heart beat so fast he felt like choking and he thought, _This is it, it’s happening_. But Khan never came close enough to kiss him because the alarm on his phone went off again.

Khan jumped, swore, turned around, and switched off the noise. “We should get going,” he mumbled and it sounded apologetic.

“Let’s meet for breakfast in 20 minutes,” Martin proposed, climbing out of the bed. He felt disappointed at not having felt Khan’s lips against his own, but he decided to make the best out of this situation in the hope a similar opportunity would soon arise.

“Okay,” Khan shrugged.

“It’s a date,” Martin said and winked. He couldn’t cherish the look of surprise on Khan’s face because he quickly ducked out of the room, so Khan wouldn’t see his blushed face.

Martin went for a quick shower and changed into a new uniform, before he went back to Khan’s room with seven minutes to spare. He knocked at the door in the hope of seeing Khan in nothing but a towel again, but when the door was opened, Khan was dressed in his uniform.

“I thought we were meeting downstairs,” he said.

Had Khan always looked this handsome in his uniform? Martin suddenly understood what Douglas had been talking about when he had told Martin about the sex appeal of pilots.

“I had a bit of time to spare, so I thought I’d meet you here,” Martin answered, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Oh?” Khan made.

“Skip.” Arthur had appeared next to them.

Martin had completely forgotten he had been with them on this trip. “Good morning, Arthur.” His eyes were still on Khan who looked disappointed. “Hungry?”

“I hope they have these tiny yoghurts again,” Arthur told him.

“Tiny yoghurts?” Khan asked.

“Yes, they taste like normal sized yoghurts, but they are tiny,” Arthur elaborated while they were walking down the corridor, Martin and Arthur in front and Khan making up the rear.

When they reached the breakfast hall, Arthur hurried off to check on the yoghurt supply. Martin was scanning the room for an empty table when Khan told him he would go to get some coffee. Without thinking, Martin grabbed his hand and squeezed it briefly, looking into another direction, before making his way across the room, away from Khan. The table secured, Martin turned around to find Khan hadn’t moved. Instead, he was staring at him and when Martin made eye contact, they were both not able to break it.

Arthur appeared next to Martin, carrying a tray full of tiny yoghurts. “Do you think I can bring some of them with me?” he asked, forcing Martin to look away from Khan.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Martin shrugged. “Listen, Arthur. Could you do me a favour?”

Arthur nodded.

“Look after the table for a bit while I go and get some breakfast, will you?”

Sure, skip,” Arthur agreed.

Martin walked over to the buffet where Khan was standing next to the coffee machine. Not knowing if he should talk to him, Martin grabbed a tray and filled it with bread, cheese, and orange juice. When he turned around to walk back to the table, he bumped into Khan and nearly let go of his tray. Khan, however, gripped it tightly and shoved it back into Martin’s arms.

“Thank you,” Martin mumbled.

“No problem,” Khan said, his voice husky.

 

Back on the plane, Martin felt himself relax because he knew the surroundings and would better be able to control what was happening between him and Khan. Arthur had filled two plastic bags with tiny yoghurts, but the security guard at the airport had made him leave them behind. Khan had assured Arthur he could buy them back home as well, but Arthur had still retreated into the galley, quietly mourning his yoghurts.

Martin and Khan didn’t talk much during the flight back home. Martin wasn’t sure if he should say something, if he should acknowledge the brief moment between him and Khan earlier. There was something there, it was undeniable, but Martin had no idea how to proceed. Douglas would know what to do; yet, asking him was out of the question because he would tease Martin for falling in love with a man who was completely out of his league. Khan didn’t talk about it either and Martin had promised himself to act accordingly to what Khan was doing. If Khan wanted him, he could say something. It was obvious Martin was attracted to him; at least, Martin thought so.

Martin dreaded the moment they would arrive back in Fitton because it would be several days until he would see Khan again. The next trip on his list was with Douglas and Martin had never looked forward to a trip less. Douglas would try to find out the truth about Khan for the entirety of the flight, while Khan would be gloomy and moody as soon as the topic of Martin flying away with Douglas would come up.

They landed in Fitton at around midnight. Arthur, whom Carolyn would take home, left the plane immediately, telling them he didn’t want to keep his mother waiting. Martin and Khan were left alone.

“Martin, I –,” Khan began, but Martin shook his head.

“I know you don’t like Douglas, but I promise you I’ll be back soon,” Martin told him.

“What? Why?” Khan asked, looking confused. “I wanted to tell you –”

But Martin interrupted him again. “Because I’m going to Italy with Douglas tomorrow, like I told you,” he stammered, “and I know you don’t like him, but you don’t have to have anything to do with him, it’s –”

“Martin, calm down,” Khan said, tentatively putting a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “You don’t have to apologise, you don’t have to worry, it’s a job, I know, this is not what I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Martin made. “I thought –”

“Shhh, Martin,” Khan made, taking his hand from Martin’s shoulder. “I wanted to ask you something, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, if you think it’s too personal a question.”

“Go on.” Martin swallowed, his heart pounded heavily, and he felt like sitting down.

“Is there someone in your life?” Khan asked, speaking so fast Martin didn’t understand him. “I mean, do you have a girlfriend or are you and Douglas …” He trailed off, biting his lower lip and looking at Martin expectantly.

“Am I dating Douglas?” Martin asked, suppressing a laugh. This was not the moment to laugh in Khan’s face, not when he was asking whether Martin was single or not. “No, we’re not dating, I don’t … I don’t think about Douglas in this way, I wouldn’t want to date him.”

Khan drew himself up to his full height, putting his hands behind his back and nodded. “Good.”

“Is that all?” Martin asked, hoping it wasn’t.

“When are you getting back from Italy?” Khan continued, his insecurity gone.

“I don’t know yet,” Martin answered. “We’re flying tomorrow afternoon, but we’re picking up a client who keeps changing the time, so we might not be back until the day after tomorrow.”

“Call me when you know a time. I want pick you up.”

“Okay, I will,” Martin agreed in a voice which was surprisingly steady, much steadier than he felt.

“Goodbye, Martin, have a safe trip.”

Khan stepped forward to hug him and Martin reciprocated the hug. When Khan let go, Martin felt happier than he had in years.

Encouraged by Khan’s proposition, Martin said, “Don’t miss me too much,” he gave Khan a wink.

 

The next day, at two in the afternoon, Martin and Douglas arrived at the airfield. Martin hadn’t seen him in days and dreaded their reunion, but so far Douglas hadn’t mentioned Khan, but had instead teased Martin about the sunburn he had caught during his time in Myanmar.

Carolyn sent them off, complaining about the client they were picking up. It wasn’t the first time he was flying with MJN Air. The last time they had picked him up, they had sat around at Brussels Airport for two days because the meeting he was attending had taken him three days more than he had anticipated. Carolyn didn’t trust him and was anxious about how much time they would waste this time.

“Last time we had to sleep on the plane,” Martin reminded Carolyn. “Would it be okay if we go to a hotel this time?” The idea had come to him when he had considered how nicely Carolyn had been treating them since Khan had joined them.

Carolyn burst out laughing. “I don’t think so, Martin,” she gasped, catching her breath.

“So we don’t get special treatment when Nonnien Singh isn’t here,” Douglas growled. “Interesting.”

Once they were airborne, their conversation turned to the topic Martin had been dreading.

“So, Martin,” Douglas opened. “Khan Noonien Singh.”

“Yes?”

“What does he want?”

Martin shrugged. “Fly planes, I guess.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, Martin,” Douglas said warningly. “You know exactly what I mean. Why is he here? Why doesn’t he let us be? Why would he want to work for free?”

“Leave it be,” Martin sighed “I’ve told you everything I know.”

“Okay, let’s talk about South America. Carolyn told me everything about the explosion. Did you really go back to the hotel?”

“Why are you so determined to see Khan in a bad light?” Martin snapped, surprising himself with how much force he put into these words.

“I’m not,” Douglas defended himself. “I know there is something you’re not telling me. And I also know this Nonnien Singh isn’t a millionaire and he certainly isn’t bored with the life he’s been living. So please, Martin, save yourself the trouble and tell me what’s going on because you know I’ll find out about it sooner than later.”

“Well, if you’re so certain you will, why don’t you still not know what’s going on?” Martin shot back. “You’ve had weeks now, but you’re not any wiser than you were on Christmas.”

Douglas glared at Martin before he forcefully turned on the autopilot. “You fancy him,” he snarled quietly. “This much is obvious.”

Martin froze in his seat. “How…?”

“So you don’t deny it,” Douglas shouted triumphantly. “You do fancy him.”

“Did Carolyn put you up to this?” Martin demanded to know. “I know she’s desperate to find out what’s going on with Khan, but this is low, even by her standards.”

“No, this is me asking you if you’re in love with Khan.”

“So what if I am?” Martin asked quietly.

“I don’t know, Martin,” Khan sighed. “I’m trying to tell you if there’s something fishy about Khan, you’d be the last person to recognise it, so you shouldn’t be so quick to defend him.”

“Oh and you are a better judge than I am.” Martin had to stifle a laugh. “You were set on hating him the moment you saw him, though he was nothing but nice to you.”

“Why should I be nice to someone who has evil intentions?” Douglas defended himself. “No one in their right mind would work for MJN Air for free.”

“Thanks.” Martin pretended to look out of the window to check the consistence of the passing clouds so Douglas could not see his face. His eyes had begun to sting and he was sure he would not be able to stand it if he had to look at Douglas now.

“No, this isn’t what I meant,” Douglas tried to apologise.

“Yes, this is exactly what you meant,” Martin mumbled. “How’s my position any different from Khan?”

Douglas kept silent.

“It’s not as if I have much choice, do I?” Martin asked into the silence. “If I want to fly planes, I have to do it for free. And I don’t want to live a life where I can’t do it. So why do you constantly mock me for pursuing the thing I love doing?”

“Martin, I’m sorry,” Douglas apologised again. “I didn’t mean it like this.”

“Yes, you did,” Martin objected. “From the moment we met you did nothing but tease me. First, it was about my appearance and about people not recognising I am the captain, which was understandable. You were envious.”

Douglas opened his mouth.

“No, Douglas, for once in your life, listen,” Martin cut across him. “You were envious, there’s no need to deny it. And I don’t blame you. I would’ve been, too. But you discovered I don’t make any money out of being your captain and from then on you not only attacked my appearance but also told me on a regular basis following my dreams was a stupid thing to do. And if this hadn’t been enough, you also kept reminding me of how little worth I have as a person for not being in a relationship. You pretended to care about my feelings so you could compare my miserable life to yours and feel better about yourself, though you are nothing but a little First Officer, working for a company which is practically bankrupt, and your wife left you for a Tai Chi teacher. So you don’t get to judge me, least of all for enjoying the company of a man who does not constantly put me down.”

“Does he like you as well?” Douglas asked, his voice quieter than Martin had ever heard it.

“I told you, he does not constantly put me down,” Martin shouted.

“No, I mean, does he like you the way you like him?”

“What do you know about my feelings for Khan?”

“You admitted you fancy him not two minutes ago,” Douglas reminded him.

“And this is all you care about, of course.” Martin threw his hands into the air in resignation. “You care about me being in love with Khan and not knowing if it’s mutual, but having a feeling it might be, that this time I might have chosen the right person. But you want to know what Khan thinks about me so you can taunt me about being hopelessly in love with a man who is so far out of my league he would not pay attention to me in a million years.”

“But does he like you?” Douglas persisted.

“I don’t know,” Martin shouted, his voice louder than it had ever been. “I sincerely hope he does, I think he does, but I don’t know why this should concern you.”

“It doesn’t,” Douglas admitted. “I’m worried about you, as your friend.”

“Please,” Martin snorted. “Are you my friend?”

“Yes, I am,” Douglas persisted. “And I don’t mean for my constant teasing to be hurtful, and I’m sorry if it has come across as such, but I’m concerned for you. I don’t want you to waste your talent working for a company which does not have the money to pay you. I also don’t want you to fall in love with someone who does not love you back.”

“So what if I do?” Martin wanted to know. “What if Khan doesn’t like me the way I like him? What if I’m pining for a man who will never choose me as his partner? It doesn’t concern you. If I want to fall for Khan, I will, and you don’t get to protect me for this or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Okay, I won’t say anything,” Douglas shrugged, “but don’t come running to me, wanting to talk about your feelings when you discover Khan is an evil bastard who used you for his own purposes.”

“No, this is not what he is doing.” Martin shook his head.

“How would you know?”

“I trust him.”

Now it was Douglas’ turn to snort. “Please, Martin, you met him two weeks ago.”

“Yes, and I trust him more than I trust you,” Martin said and he meant it to sting. “This should be your concern, not if I’m fantasising about being in a relationship with Khan.”

 

When they had landed in Milan, Douglas immediately stormed out of the flight deck, which led to Arthur asking Martin if everything was fine, and Martin snapping at Arthur to leave him be.

The mood was tense for the rest of the day, which all three of them spent in a lounge at the airport, waiting for their client who didn’t show up. Arthur was too intimidated to talk to either Douglas or Martin, who were sitting as far away from each other as possible, after Douglas had told him he would make Arthur eat his hat if he didn’t shut up. After this, he had proceeded to glare at Martin, but when Martin looked into his direction, Douglas pretended to be reading a magazine.

It was a relief when their client called to tell them he wouldn’t be needing them until the next morning. They moved back to the plane and Douglas immediately went back to the flight deck and shut the door with such force, it made Arthur jump. After having spent five minutes in uncomfortable silence with Arthur, Martin excused himself, went outside, and called Khan.

Martin didn’t tell him about his fight with Douglas. In fact, he didn’t mention the others. He told Khan when he would be back, so Khan could pick him up from the airport if he still wanted to. Khan promised to be there before telling Martin he couldn’t wait to see him again, which made Martin blush. They wished each other good night, and Martin climbed back on board the plane.

Douglas was still in the flight deck, but Arthur had prepared two seats for Martin and himself to sleep in.

“Everything okay, Skip?” he asked tentatively once Martin had slumped into one of the seats.

“Yes, Arthur, don’t worry about it,” Martin assured him.

“But Douglas –”

“It’s a little fight, people get into fights all the time.” Martin yawned and stretched.

“Not Douglas and you though,” Arthur pointed out, sitting down in his own seat.

“What do you mean, not Douglas and me? We fight all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” Arthur contradicted him. “Douglas teases you and you get annoyed with him. But we’re a team, you and Douglas and Mum and me. We don’t get into bad fights; I mean, what would happen to the team?”

“Arthur, don’t worry about it,” Martin assured him.

“What are you fighting about?” Arthur wanted to know.

“Stuff,” Martin eluded the question.

“Is it Khan?”

Martin was so surprised by Arthur’s guess he couldn’t help but to affirm Arthur’s suspicion.

“Oh, it’ll be fine then,” Arthur said happily.

“Why?”

“He won’t be with us forever, and once he’s gone, Douglas and you will get back to talking to each other, and it’ll be fine,” Arthur explained.

Martin leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t want to admit it, but Arthur was probably right. Arthur was usually right about everything. Martin didn’t feel like entering into a discussion about this now, knowing full well he would lose it, so he didn’t say anything.

“Do you like him?” Arthur wanted to know. “I like him, he’s brilliant. I think Mum likes him too.”

Martin smiled at Arthur. “Yes, I like him.”

“You’ll see, it’ll be fine,” Arthur assured him.

 

The next morning, Martin was woken by the sound of Douglas shouting his name. Carolyn had been calling, demanding to know why she had received a phone call by an angry client whom no one had welcomed at the airport. Martin straightened his uniform and rushed outside to meet the man, while trying to get the image of Douglas smirking at him out of his mind.

Martin apologised countless times to their client who turned out not to be as upset as Carolyn had made him sound and as soon as they were on the plane, Arthur offered him drinks and snacks. It wasn’t long before the client and Arthur were telling each other jokes and Martin had to join Douglas in the flight deck, where he was glad to discover the smirk on Douglas’ face was gone.

“Is everything all right?” Douglas asked coldly.

“Yep,” Martin answered. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“Good.”

“About yesterday –” Martin began.

Douglas raised his hand. “No, Martin, you don’t have to apologise,” Douglas interrupted him.

“I didn’t want to apologise,” Martin went on. “I wanted to tell you it’s not the end of the world if you can’t stand Khan. I like him and Arthur likes him and even Carolyn, so I’ll live if you don’t get along with him.” Martin hesitated for a brief moment. “Why did you think I wanted to apologise?”

“I’m not starting this discussion again,” Douglas sighed. “I think you are wrong, and Khan is a bad person.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Martin shrugged. “You won’t be able to convince me of it, and I won’t try to make you like him if you’re set on hating him. But let us stop this and be friends again. It will be extremely uncomfortable if we don’t get along.”

“Yesterday, you said to me I’m not your friend,” Douglas growled.

“Okay,” Martin shrugged, acting as if he didn’t care. “Do what you want.”

They both proceeded to glare at the instruments in front of them. Arthur joined them briefly to offer them coffee, not picking up on the dreadful mood in the flight deck. Carolyn phoned once to ask if the client was so angry she would have to pay him back, but Martin assured her everything was fine. When they were starting their descent into Fitton, Douglas brought up the topic of Khan once again.

“What I don’t understand is how Carolyn can like him,” he murmured, as if talking to himself. “How do you know Carolyn likes him?”

“She wants to impress him,” Martin shrugged. “We get to stay in nice hotels. Also, Arthur told me she likes him.”

Douglas pressed the intercom button. “Arthur, could you step into the flight deck for a moment?” he asked.

“Everything okay, Douglas?” Arthur opened the door. “Do you want more coffee?”

“Come inside and close the door,” Douglas ordered.

Arthur did as he was told.

“Now, tell me, why does Carolyn like Khan?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur answered. “I think it’s probably because he works for free.”

“Hm,” Douglas made, “or it’s because he is putting pressure on her.”

“Khan?” Arthur laughed. “Why would he do that?”

“Yes, why would he?” Martin asked, turning to Douglas.

Douglas looked like an angry, cornered animal. “He’ll have his reasons,” he stated.

 

Filling out the paperwork after this flight was one of the most uncomfortable things Martin ever had to do. All he wanted was to leave the airfield because he knew Khan was waiting for him outside. He would tell him about the trip and about Douglas’ suspicions and Khan would know how to fix it. Maybe they would be able to meet with Douglas and prove to him Khan wasn’t an evil mastermind, plotting to take down MJN Air.

Though Martin had been hurt by what Douglas had said to him yesterday, he also didn’t want to lose his friendship. He would choose Khan, yes, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to make this choice.

“Can I take you home?” Douglas offered out of the blue.

Martin lay down the pen he had used to do the paperwork and cleared his throat. “No, thank you. I have plans.”

“Oh, meeting with Khan, are we?” Douglas immediately attacked Martin.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Martin confirmed proudly.

“Well, I won’t bother you any longer.” Douglas gripped his bag and left the room.

Martin shook his head sadly and continued to fill out the form he had been working on. When he was nearly finished, it occurred to him Douglas might bump into Khan outside. In his agitated state, it was possible Douglas would attack Khan and as much as Martin liked to watch Khan beat up people, he didn’t want him to hurt Douglas. So he picked up his phone to call Khan.

Khan didn’t answer, so Martin felt panic rise in his chest. He didn’t finish his paperwork, for the first time in his career, but instead rushed out of the room, down the corridor, and into the entrance hall. The car park looked deserted, so Martin glanced around the hall, looking for either Khan or Douglas.

A car pulled up in front of the building and Martin saw Khan getting out. He immediately felt relieved by his sight, knowing he couldn’t have met Douglas and everything would be fine. He began to walk toward the door to invite Khan in while he finished the paperwork, but was interrupted by Douglas calling out his name behind him.

“Martin, I remembered something.”

Martin turned around to see Douglas walk toward him in long strides.

“Yes?” Martin asked impatiently, eager to meet Khan.

Douglas came closer and closer to Martin until he was standing in front of him.

“Look, Douglas, I’m in a hurry,” Martin said, glancing over his shoulder to see Khan step into the hall.

Suddenly, Martin felt Douglas grip him by the collar and while his brain was still busy trying to figure out what was going on, Douglas had pressed his lips against Martin’s and was kissing him. Martin was frozen in shock, unable to move. The only thing which came to his mind was how Khan was seeing them kiss. He imagined the look of hurt and confusion on Khan’s face, which gave him the strength to push Douglas away.

“Douglas, what are you doing?” he shouted agitatedly.

Douglas was not looking at him, but at something behind Martin. Martin whipped around in time to see Khan leave the building.

“Khan!” he shouted, but Khan didn’t hear or was ignoring him. “Khan, wait!”

He ran after Khan who was getting into his car and shutting the door with such force it rang like gunfire in Martin’s ears.

“Wait!” he shouted again, but only received the soft purring of the car’s motor as an answer.

Martin skidded to a halt in front of the door and pulled it open with such force it crashed into the wall. His hand was in his pocket searching for his phone while he watched Khan drive away. The backlights of the car had not yet vanished out of sight when Martin was leaving a message for Khan.

“Khan, please, call me,” he panted, feeling tears stinging in his eyes. “Please.”

He walked back inside to get his bag, past Douglas who had a triumphant smirk on his face.


	6. Brighter Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin spends months unsuccessfully looking for Khan and it is only when Douglas finds a clue in the newspaper that Martin has a chance of finding him again. He also has to realise he needs Douglas' help to be meet Khan again.

Martin knew it was useless. If AIPF with all their resources were unable to find Khan, he would fail all the more. If Khan didn’t want to be found, no one would find him. This much had become obvious over the course of the two months Martin had spent looking for Khan. He had used all the tricks Khan had taught him in their short time together, scanning the newspapers every morning for a tiny hint which would give away what Khan was up to. But Martin had failed.

At the beginning, Martin had blamed Douglas, and rightfully so. If Douglas hadn’t kissed him, in what was doubtfully an attempt to ruin the beginning relationship between Khan and Martin, and Khan hadn’t seen it, he wouldn’t have run away. Martin hadn’t talked to Douglas for a month, nothing beyond what protocol dictated. And he had started talking to him again because Douglas, in an attempt to apologise, had offered to help Martin with his search. Martin didn’t want to forgive him, but he also knew his chances of finding Khan were much higher when Douglas was helping him. In order for him to be able to support Martin fully, Martin had been forced to tell him the truth about Khan, which had led Douglas to apologise more and promise he would do anything to help Martin find Khan and hide him from AIPF.

Carolyn had been angry with Douglas, so angry she had cut his salary. Martin had told her exactly what had happened, out of revenge, and Carolyn, for the first time since Martin had known her, had been on his side in a fight with Douglas. She had lost her third pilot and had to cancel a few trips which had been booked.

The one person who had offered to help Martin in his search immediately was Arthur. He hadn’t been of much use to Martin, but it had been nice to have someone to share his troubles with. Arthur had also suggested multiple times Martin should ask Douglas for help because Douglas was smart and would sort it all out, but Martin had declined without telling Arthur what had happened.

When Martin came to work one Monday morning, determined not to bother with searching for Khan anymore, Douglas jumped at him, enthusiastically waving a newspaper in front of his eyes.

“I think I found something,” he told Martin excitedly. “Here.”

He shoved the paper into Martin’s face and Martin skimmed an article about the economy in Europe.

“So? I’m sure economics is interesting –“

“No, not that one Martin. This one.” Douglas pointed to a small report at the side of the page.

It was about a small town in Arizona which had been taken over by a military group no country admitted to have sent. Rumours said it was a secret branch of the US Military and this was the reason the USA hadn’t declared war.

Martin looked up at Douglas’ bright face and read the article again, trying to supress his excitement in case he would be disappointed.

“Do you think it’s AIPF?” Martin asked tentatively.

“I not only think so, I’m certain of it,” Douglas declared. “So what do you think, shall we have a quick look?”

“How are we going to have a quick look at a remote town in Arizona?”

“We have an aeroplane, don’t we?” Douglas shrugged.

“No, _I_ have an aeroplane, Douglas,” Carolyn corrected him.

Martin glanced behind Douglas to find Carolyn standing in the door of her office. “I know, I know, I wasn’t suggesting we should use it,” Martin immediately apologised.

“No, but _I_ am suggesting it,” Carolyn said with a stern face.

Martin gawped at Carolyn, too shocked to say anything.

“Now, Martin, don’t get upset,” Douglas told him, putting an arm on his shoulder, “but I told Carolyn everything about Khan this morning and she’s agreed to help us find him.”

“Why? But why?” was all Martin was able to stammer.

“Because I’m sick and tired of my airline falling apart like this,” Carolyn sighed. “I wish we could go back to you two being the only pilots and Douglas teasing you about your height and not having to worry about pilots falling in love with each other and acting like twelve-year-olds, but I can’t have everything. All I know is, if you don’t find Khan and explain to him what happened, you will regret it for the rest of your life, and the last thing you need, Martin, is another thing you can regret.”

“But what about the business? What about MJN Air?” Martin pointed out. “Who knows how long our search will take, we might not be back for days, weeks.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Martin,” Douglas said dismissively. “You might take weeks, but you have me, and I always have a plan.”

 

“How can we be certain we will find Khan there?” Martin asked doubtfully, once they were airborne.

“We can’t be certain,” Douglas admitted, “but after all you’ve told me, it sounds as if Khan is the kind of person who would do something stupid when he thinks he is all alone in the world. Like you.”

Martin opened his mouth to protest, but had to admit to himself Douglas was right.

“So he either has joined this Blythe character or he is trying to prevent him from taking over AIPF, who knows, but one way or another, it’s likely he’ll be there.”

Martin sighed, wishing himself back to a time when he hadn’t had to deal with secret government organisations. “We don’t know if AIPF took over this town or if it was Blythe.”

“I know,” Douglas said, his eyes shining. “Isn’t it exciting?”

“I still can’t believe Carolyn let us have GERTI,” Martin went on.

“Martin, you should stop worrying about everything,” Douglas sighed in a mock-exasperated voice. “For now, let’s focus on coming up with a plan.”

Martin sighed deeply, his temple throbbing with pain. “There’s so much we need to think about,” he sighed. “It’s not Khan alone we have to worry about, it’s also AIPF, and probably Blythe.”

“But you have something neither AIPF nor this Blythe have,” Douglas pointed out. “Me. Now, listen. When we get there, I want you to do everything I tell you. If I say you should pretend to be a health inspector, you are going to pretend to be one. If I say you should pretend to be a French tank commander, you are going to pretend to be one.”

Martin nodded, feeling reminded of Khan and his need to command him in dangerous situations.

“It’s highly likely we will have to use stealth to find Khan,” Douglas continued. “I don’t expect him to sit around in the middle of this town. AIPF is trying to kill him. For now, I’d suggest we should rely upon him wanting to make sure you are safe as soon as he sees you. We will let him come to us and not go searching for him.”

“I’m not so sure,” Martin objected, looking away from Douglas. “I’m not so sure he’ll make to want sure I’m safe.”

“No, Martin, trust me. He will,” Douglas assured him.

“Not with you there, he won’t,” Martin shrugged.

Douglas breathed in deeply. “Yes, he will. He will know we are looking for him as soon as he sees us. We don’t have another reason to be there.”

“Yes, we do. A cargo flight or something,” Martin pointed out.

“What’s done is done,” Douglas said calmly. “We have to make the best out of this situation.”

“Why did you do it?” Martin asked.

He had promised himself never to ask Douglas this question and thereby not acknowledging Douglas had kissed him. But if they were going to do this, he needed to be able to trust Douglas completely, and he only could do this when he learned why Douglas had done it.

“Why did you kiss me?” Martin looked Douglas in the eye until the other lowered his gaze.

“I’d prefer not to discuss this,” he answered.

“I need to know, Douglas. And you have to tell me, for my sake and for Khan’s sake.”

“Shall I make coffee first?” Douglas tried to evade the conversation.

“You can make coffee after you’ve told me,” Martin said impatiently.

“All right,” Douglas sighed in defeat. “Remember when you started working for us?”

“Yes?” Martin urged him to go on.

“You were right with what you said to me when we flew to Italy, I was envious. I was angry with Carolyn for promising me the captain’s seat and giving it to you, a younger man with hardly any experience, who took seven goes to get his license. I had no idea why she would choose you over me, what made you so special. And you had to be special, because otherwise you would have been first officer. Of course, back then, I had no idea she was forcing you to fly without paying you. So I decided to find out what you had that I didn’t. This is why I always teased you and made fun of you. I was sure you would reveal some special power eventually.”

Martin huffed. “You could’ve asked me.”

“How would this have sounded? ‘Excuse me, Captain, I am more qualified than you, so what did you do to become my superior?’ It sounds silly and petty.”

“But you were silly and petty,” Martin reminded Douglas.

Douglas looked as if he was about to disagree, but lowered his gaze. “I guess I was,” he admitted. “But I got to know you, and I saw you weren’t special. The opposite, in fact. You had no confidence whatsoever as a captain, and you nearly cost us all our job more than once.”

“What a nice thing to say,” Martin snapped.

“Let me finish, Martin. I nevertheless saw potential in you, so I decided to teach you everything I know. But then my wife left me. Suddenly I wasn’t so much better than you.”

“Are you sure you want to tell me this story the way you are telling it?” Martin asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Yes, it’s important you understand the context,” Douglas continued. “I understood that being like me probably wasn’t the best option for you. In fact, I spent so much time worrying about your situation, as a means to forget how miserable I was, it occurred to me how similar we were and how much we had in common. From then on –” Douglas stopped mid-sentence, looking unsure. “I’m not sure you want to hear the rest of this story and I’m not sure I want to tell you.”

“Well, you sort of have to,” Martin noted. “You haven’t mentioned Khan in a single sentence so far.”

Douglas took a deep breath, obviously steadying himself. “From then on I realised I liked you,” he said quickly, his usual audacity gone. “I mean, I like liked you. As more as a friend. Like –”

“Yes, yes, I understand what you mean,” Martin said impatiently, his heart beating fast. Douglas was right – he didn’t want to know the rest of the story. “But why didn’t you say something?”

“Say what?”

“Usually, you have no problems telling someone you fancy them,” Martin reminded Douglas.

“You don’t like me in this way,” Douglas stated calmly.

Martin bit his lower lip. “Yes, no, I mean … No, you’re probably right, I don’t … I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. You know me, I’ll get over it,” Douglas said with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t think it would work,” Martin added, feeling his heart beat painfully. It wouldn’t work, he was sure of it. A small part of him didn’t want to hurt Douglas’ feelings (it was a tiny, insignificant part, considering what Douglas had done to him), but a much bigger part wanted this conversation to be over. And if he had to tell Douglas what a horrible boyfriend he would make, so be it.

“I know, I know, let me finish my story,” Douglas evaded any further remarks. “Still, I know you better than most people, so it was obvious from the beginning you liked Khan. And I knew you didn’t like me and I didn’t want to say something, but I also didn’t want you to fall in love with someone else. I know I’m selfish; this isn’t an excuse.”

“So you kissed me to drive Khan away from me, not because you think he’s evil, but because you didn’t want me to fall in love with someone who’s not you?” Martin asked, his voice high with anger.

“Yes and no,” Douglas said vaguely. “I didn’t like him, and I still don’t, for the record. At first, I thought he was another man to take away my job and my position. Why would Carolyn still employ and pay me if she suddenly had two pilots who were working for free?”

Martin had never thought about Douglas being scared of losing his job and therefore not liking Khan. It hadn’t occurred to him.

“I also thought he was planning something, I don’t know what,” Douglas went on. “Who, and please don’t take this personally, in their right mind would work for free? I thought he was a spy, sent by our rivals, though MJN doesn’t have any I’m aware of, or, I don’t know, someone had hired him so I would lose my job. You flirting with him and spending time with him didn’t help either.”

“So you _did_ kiss me to drive Khan away,” Martin exclaimed triumphantly.

“Yes,” Douglas admitted, “but also because I didn’t trust him and because I didn’t want you to get hurt by someone who was sent to sabotage MJN Air.”

“Who would do that?” Martin said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s not as if we were harming anyone’s business.”

“I know, I know,” Douglas snapped impatiently, “let me finish. I tried to talk to you, I tried to tell you falling in love with Khan was a bad idea because he would eventually hurt you.”

“But why do you think so? He hasn’t given you any indication he was _evil_ ; you don’t talk to him, so how would you know he would hurt me?”

“Now I know his backstory, I know I was stupid in thinking what I thought,” Douglas admitted. “But you never told me, even though I asked.”

“Don’t pretend this is my fault,” Martin intervened. “It’s not. It’s your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Douglas nodded. “I know it isn’t an excuse, but I wanted to make sure you were happy and nobody would hurt you, and in trying to do so, I made you unhappy and I hurt you. From now on I will take better care of you.”

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” Martin said slowly. “I don’t think I want you in my life much when this is over. You might’ve done more damage than both of us are willing to admit.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Martin.” Douglas tried to smile but failed. “I’m fixing it now, don’t forget that.”

“I won’t, but don’t force me to forgive you easily. And I also want you to apologise to Khan when we find him.”

 

Finding Khan wasn’t as easy as Douglas had made it sound. When they landed on a small airfield near Las Vegas and tried to rent a car to drive to the small town, they were told they weren’t allowed to do so because the town was in a restricted area. And once they had told the rental company were they wanted to go, they also refused to give them a car, not trusting them not to drive it to Supai.

“See, I told you it wouldn’t be easy,” Martin sighed in frustration.

“We can always steal a car,” Douglas said thoughtfully.

“We are not stealing a car,” Martin put his foot down.

“What do you suggest?”

“Well, we have a plane, and we are a registered charter service,” Martin said slowly. “We can always pretend we are delivering something, you know, get the airfield to call whoever is in charge and tell them to come and pick us up.”

“It would be a brilliant plan, were it not for the fact we have no idea who has taken over Supai. We have no clue what sort of goods we pretend to be delivering. And should they believe us, once they get here, they will notice there is nothing to be picked up.”

“We can always tell them we have information about Khan,” Martin shrugged.

“Information we can’t give them over the phone?” Douglas asked. “Also, once we get there, are you proposing to tell them Khan has been working for us and is, in all likelihood, somewhere in the village, observing them?”

“Why not?” Martin shrugged. “We can tell them we have information concerning Khan, but we refuse to tell them over the phone, so they have to come and get us, and while we wait, we can make up some kind of story, and once we’re there, Khan, who, as you pointed out, will be hiding somewhere, will see what risks we’re taking to get to him, and he will reveal himself to us and you can come up with a plan to get us out of there.”

“This is the stupidest plan I have ever heard,” Douglas said, shaking his head. “Our chances of surviving it are probably zero.”

“I know, isn’t it exciting,” Martin remarked grimly.

“Oh all right,” Douglas gave in. “But don’t blame me if something goes wrong or if we die.”

“I won’t,” Martin promised, his thoughts far away. “Now go and call them.”

Douglas rolled his eyes but obliged.

The most difficult part of their plan was to convince the airfield manager to try and reach someone in Supai. At first, she told them they had orders not to intervene in whatever was going on in the village. Douglas had to use all his wit to persuade her to help them. Once the number was dialled and Douglas was talking to someone who, according to him, was in charge of who was allowed inside the restricted area, talking to the airfield manager was as easy as trying to convince Arthur to help you.

Douglas told them everything he could without giving away were Khan had been hiding and what he had been doing these past couple of months. He told them enough to make them believe he had valuable information on Khan’s movements and whereabouts. Martin, meanwhile, nervously paced up and down the corridor, not wanting to listen to the conversation but also too anxious not to listen to every word Douglas was saying.

“They are going to send a helicopter,” Douglas finally told Martin once he had hung up.

“A helicopter?” Martin asked surprised.

“It’s faster than a car, so why not?” Douglas shrugged. “Also, we should be careful about how we proceed. I don’t think they believed me when I told them about Khan. Are you sure you want to go through with this? If we leave now, we might get away.”

“Yes, I am sure,” Martin insisted firmly.

“So what do you want to tell them?” Douglas asked.

“I don’t know yet, we need to come up with something,” Martin said thoughtfully.

“You need to come up with something,” Douglas corrected him. “I’ve done my bit.”

“And I will, don’t worry.”

 

Martin had never been to Arizona, and he had never been to the Grand Canyon. When the helicopter was flying across the desert and closer and closer to the ravines and chasms of the canyon, he couldn’t help but gaze in wonder at the landscape which was passing below him at high speed. When their transport lowered down into one of the chasms, he didn’t feel as optimistic as he had before, partly due to the fact the walls on every side were closing in on them and it would be impossible for them to escape on foot.

Douglas didn’t seem to be worried by the danger they were in. He was wearing his aviator shades, his head resting against the wall of the helicopter, his arms crossed in front of his chest, as if he were sleeping. Martin wished he could act as nonchalantly as Douglas, but instead he busied himself by scanning the ground below them, looking for signs of Khan.

When they landed, they were immediately surrounded by an escort of six heavily armed men and brought into a narrow hut which looked like the inside of a military base. From every corner green and red lights flashed in a steady rhythm, and men and women in black uniforms bearing arms were running around or sitting in office armchairs, checking monitors.

“In here,” one of their guards said, pointing to a small doorway at the back.

Martin and Douglas stepped through it, Douglas looking at home in this new environment, while Martin wished he could melt together with the desert and never be seen again.

They were greeted by a tall, older man with a grey, pointy beard who welcomed them to his improvised office. “Are you Douglas Richardson?” he asked, extending his hand toward Douglas.

“I am,” Douglas confirmed, taking it. “And you are?”

“Colonel Blythe,” the other answered. “Please, sit down.” He pointed at two wobbly chairs next to his desk.

Martin swallowed hard and sat down. Now they knew with whom they were dealing. Martin would have chosen AIPF had he been asked. Judging from what Marla had said, it was safe to say Blythe was a dangerous fanatic who knew how to manipulate people. Carefully, Martin glanced at Douglas to try and let him know to be careful, but Douglas’ focus was on Blythe.

“I was told you have information about the fugitive Khan Noonien Singh,” Blythe opened the conversation when he had settled himself behind his desk.

 _As if you need information on him,_ Martin thought bitterly, thinking back to their conversation with Marla.

“Yes, we do,” Douglas confirmed. “But before we reveal anything, what’s in it for us?”

“You came all the way to Arizona to talk to us, so you must be desperate to give us the information,” Blythe pointed out. “Why should we pay for something we didn’t ask for in the first place?"

“Exactly, we came all the way from England without knowing we would find you,” Douglas confirmed. “If this isn’t enough proof our information is valuable, I don’t know what is.”

“Why don’t you tell us what you know and we’ll decide on your payment,” Blythe suggested, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“No, this is a risk we’re not prepared to take,” Douglas declined. “We gave you some of our information –”

“Nothing we didn’t know before,” Blythe said with a wave of his hand.

Martin, who had been following the conversation attentively until now, was taken aback by Blythe’s last statement. “This might be the wrong time and place to ask this,” he said slowly, “but what do you want with Khan?”

Douglas turned his face toward Martin, his eyes wide.

“I mean, if you’re not prepared to pay us for a bit of information, he can’t be all that valuable to you,” Martin explained quickly.

“He’s not,” Blythe nodded. “We have more important things to deal with than a fugitive.”

“What if I were to tell you he is working against you?” Martin asked, knowing he was taking an enormous risk and probably revealing more than he should.

“We know,” Blythe said dismissively, but avoided to make eye-contact with Martin.

Martin swallowed hard. If Blythe was telling the truth, Khan had spent the last few months working against Blythe. “And still you don’t want to know what we could tell you?” he asked.

“Khan is one man, and we have more pressing problems to deal with,” Blythe shrugged.

Douglas crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You must want something from us if you brought us all the way out here,” he observed. “So why don’t you tell us why we’re here.”

“I’m not saying you won’t be useful in catching Khan,” Blythe said with a wave of his hand, which resulted in rapid movements behind Douglas’ and Martin’s backs. “I’m saying your information is irrelevant.”

“What -?” Martin turned around in his chair to see the door had closed and two armed men were guarding it.

“It’s a trap,” Douglas whispered urgently, but Blythe had heard him nevertheless.

“Quite right,” he said calmly. “This is a trap. Do you think I would let two civilians wander in here on the off-chance they might provide me with useful information? No, I wouldn’t let you have come if I hadn’t been told you are both pilots.”

Douglas looked confused, but Martin, in a sudden realisation, knew exactly what Blythe was talking about.

“Because you knew Khan worked as a pilot,” Martin murmured.

“Yes,” Blythe went on. “I knew, thanks to one of my associates, that Khan was working as a pilot for a small charter firm.”

“But you must know he vanished two months ago,” Douglas said immediately.

“It wasn’t easy to monitor him,” Blythe admitted. “He was trained by AIPF. But we were able to get a good idea of his movements and we also know where he is now.”

“Where?” Martin asked eagerly and regretted it the second he had said it.

“This doesn’t concern you. You only need to look scared.”

“Why would we do that?” Douglas huffed.

“Because we also know there is a pilot for whom Khan would do anything, even sacrifice himself if the other one is save,” Blythe explained. “And I would say the chances he is one of you are high.”

“Yes,” Douglas confirmed. Martin glared at him, but Douglas wasn’t put off by this. “Yes, you’re right. It’s me.”

“You?” Blythe asked surprised. “You don’t seem to be the type Khan would fall in love with.”

“Well,” Douglas shrugged, “life is full of surprises.”

“It doesn’t matter either way. We are going to use you both as bait.”

“What?” Martin asked again.

“As bait,” Blythe repeated, as if Martin was stupid. “To lure Khan to us.”

“There is no need for you to keep Martin here,” Douglas assured Blythe.

“Martin?” Blythe repeated and looked at Martin as if he was seeing him for the first time. “Martin Crieff?”

“Yes?” Martin confirmed hesitantly.

“Get me Marla,” Blythe ordered one of the men guarding the door.

Martin could feel himself turning pale. Marla would be able to confirm his identity and they would be able to use him to get to Khan. Douglas looked confused at Martin and then at Blythe and back at Martin, and Martin hated the situation. This was too big, even for Douglas. He wouldn’t be able to get them out of here in one piece. Martin had overestimated Douglas’ abilities.

“Marla, please come in.”

Martin had been too busy with his own thoughts to notice the door had opened. He forced himself not to turn around and look at Marla to prolong the time he spent unnoticed.

“I need you to confirm the identity of this man,” Blythe said, pointing at Douglas.

“I don’t know who this is, sir,” Marla answered.

“And this man?” Blythe asked, pointing at Martin.

“This is the man I met in Naypyidaw,” Marla confirmed.

“Thank you, Marla, you may leave,” Blythe dismissed her. “How noble of you to try and save your friend. But as I’ve said before, you are both going to be used as bait. It was a question of which one of you is going to be injured the most.” He turned his attention to the guards. “Bring them into the detention centre, and don’t be too careful with them.”

Martin was sure he had misunderstood Blythe’s intentions and looked to Douglas to say something against what was happening to them.

“Now, wait a moment,” Douglas dutifully obliged. “You can’t keep us here, we have rights.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Blythe contradicted him, “especially considering you were trespassing in a restricted area.”

“We weren’t trespassing,” Douglas protested.

“You’ll find that difficult to prove,” Blythe shrugged. “Take them away.”

Martin was too shocked to resist when one of the guards gripped him by his arm and forced him to stand up. He followed willingly, despite being pushed and shoved around. Douglas struggled, but it was in vain. His guard was three heads taller than him and had no problem restraining Douglas.

They went back the way they had come in, and were finally pushed outside. Martin landed ungracefully in a pile of sand and dirt, while Douglas tried to make a run for it, but was caught immediately. The guards put plastic handcuffs on them both and pushed them toward another narrow building. This one, as opposed to the one they had left, was built out of granite and didn’t have any windows, at least not on the sides Martin was able to see.

“I demand to talk to my embassy,” Douglas shouted as his guard pushed him into the house through an opening which had no door.

Instead of a reply, the guard hit him in the face, making Douglas stumble and fall to the floor. Martin decided it was better to keep quiet and step inside without making a fuss.

“Get up.” A third man had appeared and was now nudging Douglas, whose face was covered in blood, with his boot.

Douglas scrambled to his feet, glaring at the man who had kicked him.

“This is the special delivery,” Martin’s guard informed the third man. “You know what to do with them.”

A few minutes later, Martin and Douglas found themselves locked into a small cell which was empty and would have been dark, had there not been a small slit near the ceiling through which sunlight shone onto the floor. Douglas was sitting with his back resting against the wall left of the door, while Martin was pacing up and down the cell.

“You know what their plan is, right?” he asked Douglas. “They want to use us as bait to catch Khan, they think he will save us. And he will.” Martin groaned in frustration and sat down in the middle of the cell. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have persuaded you to help me and we should’ve stayed away and it was a mistake we went looking for Khan.”

“Martin, you need to calm down,” Douglas told him calmly. “It’ll get worse if you get a panic attack. You forget you’re locked in here with me. I’ve been in worse situations.”

“Really?” Martin looked up hopefully.

“No,” Douglas admitted, “but I will come up with something, I can promise you this.”

The heavy iron door, behind which they were locked in, suddenly opened, and the man who had kicked Douglas peered inside. Martin jumped to his feet, trying to look ready for whatever was going to happen now.

“You.” He pointed to Douglas. “Get up.”

“No,” Douglas refused.

The man waved to someone behind his back and another guard stepped into the cell and pulled Douglas to his feet.

“Where are you taking him?” Martin demanded to know, but the only answer he received was the sound of the door slamming shut.

Martin let himself fall to the floor ungracefully. He stared at his handcuffs, lamenting the fact that Khan had never showed him how to open them. These plastic ones were different from the ones in the James Bond film they had watched together, but still. He might be able to work out a way to get out of this cell, if he had his hands freed. What would Khan do in his situation? He would probably know how to get out of here, rescue Douglas, take down AIPF, and be home in time before Carolyn could complain they were gone for too long.

Carolyn! Carolyn would notice they were missing. She knew were they had flown to and she would call the airport and find out they had gone to Supai and they hadn’t returned yet. She would inform the British embassy and they would make enquiries into their whereabouts. And Blythe would tell the authorities some lie and no one would come to rescue them.

Martin sighed in resignation. Their only chance to get out of here alive was Khan, but Khan would stand no chance against this private army outside. And though he had acted confident in front of Douglas, Martin wasn’t sure he would come. Why should he risk his life for Martin, who had deceived him, and for Douglas, who had made it seem as if Martin was his boyfriend, despite Martin assuring Khan he was single?

Khan was the last person he wanted to blame, but he couldn’t help but wonder why he had driven away and hadn’t given Martin a chance to explain. Martin tried to convince himself he wasn’t in this situation because of anything Khan had done, but it wasn’t true. Had Khan given him the chance to explain himself, they could’ve talked about this, and Khan would have realised Douglas had kissed Martin to hurt Khan and Martin had pushed him away the second he had realised what he was doing. Khan had indeed overreacted and Martin wasn’t sure anymore if he wanted to find him and talk things over. Maybe he was better off without someone who left him because of a tiny misunderstanding. The problem was Martin was in danger now and it was all Khan’s fault and he probably wouldn’t get out of here alive, which was also Khan’s fault.

 

Martin had managed to drift off to sleep even though his stomach clenched at the thought of Khan and even though he didn’t know if he would still be alive tomorrow morning. When he woke up it was because someone had shouted outside of the prison building. It was completely dark in the cell and Martin could only see a faint, fiery glimmer through the slit near the ceiling. He had no idea who had shouted and what was going on outside, and he also was too cold and thirsty to care.

 

When he woke up again, he was convinced everything had been a dream and his shoulder was hurting because he had slept on the floor in the plane. When he was hit by a gust of ice-cold water, he remembered Blythe and Douglas being taken away and him cursing Khan all night long.

“You, on your feet.” The man who had taken Douglas away was back.

Martin scrambled to his feet immediately, making sure not to disobey the man who could, potentially, end his life. He was gripped by a guard and led out of the room, along a corridor and into a small chamber in which stood a table and two chairs. Martin was pushed inside and his hands were freed at last, but only so he could be chained to metal handcuffs which were fixed to the table.

“Leave us,” the warden ordered and the guard closed the door.

Martin was shaking with nerves and because he was still freezing, more so than during the night because his clothes were drenched in ice-cold water now.

“Mr Crieff, what is your relationship to Khan Noonien Singh?” the warden asked briskly.

“We … we were colleagues,” Martin answered, his teeth clattering.

“How did you meet him?” came the next question.

“He approached me and asked me if the company I work for had any job vacancies.”

“Were you aware Khan Noonien Singh is a wanted fugitive?”

“No.” Martin made eye contact with the warden, daring him to accuse him of lying.

“Were you aware he had committed treason and was running from a death sentence?”

“No.”

“Why did your company employ him?”

“I have no idea,” Martin shrugged. “You’ll have to ask my boss.”

“We have information about you meeting with Marla McGivers,” the warden suddenly revealed. “And we have information on you knowing about Khan Noonien Singh’s past and about him running from AIPF. We also know you have a close relationship to Khan Nonnien Singh. We know you came here in the hope of being able to sell us information regarding Khan Noonien Singh’s whereabouts. So I’d suggest you start telling the truth now.”

Martin tried to remember what he had revealed to Blythe, but the dehydration was giving him a headache and made him feel sick.

“Where is Douglas?” he asked instead of answering.

“How did you meet Khan Noonien Singh?”

“He approached me and asked me if the company I work for had any job vacancies,” Martin repeated.

“Were you aware Khan Noonien Singh is a wanted fugitive?”

“No.”

“Were you aware he had committed treason and was running from a death sentence?”

“No.”

“This isn’t going to work, Mr Crieff,” the warden sighed. “We have ways and means to convince you to talk.”

“Do you want me to lie to you?” Martin asked. “Because this is the only way you will get to hear what you want to hear.”

“We know you were fully aware of Khan Noonien Singh’s past and of the reason why he was running from AIPF,” the warden pointed out again. “We know you are not telling the truth now.”

“All right,” Martin sighed. “I’m not – Douglas and me … we aren’t pilots. We are journalists.”

“Journalists with a pilot’s licence?” The warden held up Douglas’ licence so Martin could see it.

“A forgery,” Martin shrugged.

“We checked your records,” the warden informed him. “You are Martin Crieff, born 1979 in Wokingham, Berkshire, father Tobias, mother Wendy, two siblings, Caitlin and Simon. You currently work for MJN Air, a small charter firm, run by Carolyn Knapp-Shappey –”

“All right, all right,” Martin interrupted him. “You’ve made your point.”

“So, I’m going to ask you one last time,” the warden said, breathing in deeply, “how did you meet Khan Noonien Singh?”

“He approached me and asked me if the company I work for had any job vacancies,” Martin said again.

“Okay.” The warden fiddled with something on the underside of the table. “You’ve had your chance.”

“But it’s the truth, he did,” Martin protested.

“I find this hard to believe,” the warden shrugged.

The door was opened and two guards stepped inside.

“Take him away,” the warden ordered. “He doesn’t want to cooperate.”

The handcuffs around Martin’s wrists were opened and one of the guards restrained him with plastic ones again. They led him outside of the building. Martin was relieved they wouldn’t bring him into a secret torture chamber. This relief was short-lived when he realised where the guards were taking him.

The place where the helicopter had landed yesterday had been transformed into an open prison. Martin could see a construction which resembled a dog cage. Inside was Douglas, lying on his back. Martin didn’t dare to look too closely at him, scared of what he would see. Next to the cage, two iron rings had been sunk into the ground. One of the guards bent down and fixed two short chains to them before closing their other ends around Martin’s ankles. They were adjusted in such a way it was nearly impossible for Martin to sit down.

The guards left him standing in the middle of the place in the sun which was bearing down on him. Martin was sure he wouldn’t be able to stand upright for long. Fatigue and dehydration were too strong now and his body demanded water and rest.

“Douglas, are you all right?” Martin whispered toward his right side to where the cage was standing.

Douglas groaned as an answer. Martin still didn’t dare to look at him directly.

“What is going on here?” he wanted to know, but Douglas remained quiet.

Martin looked around for any sign of help. He was facing the building in which he had met Blythe yesterday, with his back to the building he had spent the night in. To his left were other buildings and people running to and fro between them. To his right, beyond the cage in which Douglas was lying were another couple of buildings and a narrow dirt road, which led away from Supai. Luckily, the sun was sinking lower and would vanish behind the top of the canyon soon, so Martin had one thing less to worry about. He wouldn’t die from sunburn; at least, not today.

“Douglas, what’s going on?” Martin asked again, feeling his legs shaking from the strain of standing up.

“We’re bait,” Douglas mumbled quietly.

“Less talking.” A woman who was walking past them kicked Martin in the back of the knee.

Martin sank to his knees in pain. It put an agonising strain on his legs, but when the pain in his knee had subsides, he realised he was much more comfortable in this position than he had been standing up. He didn’t have much choice; he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stand up if he tried.

Martin didn’t try to talk to Douglas again, too scared of what would happen if he did. Instead, he counted the seconds until the sun would be too low to shine onto the square. When the moment finally arrived, the air went from burning hot to pleasantly cool in a couple of minutes. Martin wasn’t able to feel this relief for long because the temperature didn’t stop at pleasantly cool and instead went on to freezing cold. It didn’t help that Martin’s uniform was still damp from the water. Soon, he was shivering uncontrollably.

Martin had thought during the night the camp would be quiet, but it was busier than it had been during the day. Martin could hear the sound of a motor further inside the town and someone shouting commands. He was beginning to doze off, despite the noise in the background, when he noticed someone approaching them.

“Do you think you’re ready to talk now?” the warden asked him.

Martin didn’t give any indication he had heard the question.

“I asked you a question.” The warden kicked him. “Answer me. Or do you want to end up like your friend?” He kicked Douglas’ cage.

“All right,” Martin appeased him. At least he thought this was what he had said. His tongue was a fuzzy foreign object in his mouth.

“Untie him,” the warden ordered.

Martin saw movement out of the corner of his eye and the weight around his ankles vanished.

“Stand up,” the warden ordered.

Martin tried, but his legs gave in immediately.

“I said, stand up,” the warden repeated, kicking him again.

“I’m trying,” Martin told him, which earned him another kick.

“Punch him until he gets up,” the warden told the man who had untied Martin.

Martin felt a sharp pain in his neck when the warden punched him. This wasn’t the best way to get him to stand up, but he didn’t have any more strength to point this out.

“Harder,” the warden ordered when Martin remained on the ground.

This time he was hit on the head with a blunt object. He groaned in pain and raised his hand to the back of his skull when he felt warm blood trickle down his neck.

“Again,” the warden ordered.

Martin braced himself for another blow which didn’t come. Instead, the guard behind him grunted in surprise and made a gurgling sound. The warden suddenly jumped away from Martin and raised a gun.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, pointing his gun at someone behind Martin. “I am arresting you for committing treason and –”

A shadow lunged across Martin’s head and tackled the warden to the ground. The gun was knocked out of his hand and skidded across the ground until it came to rest in front of Martin, who grabbed it and pointed it at the two figures moving in front of him.

“Martin, no,” Douglas implored him.

Martin was so surprised to hear Douglas talk to him, he nearly dropped the gun again. Douglas was sitting upright in his cage but because of the dark, Martin still couldn’t see his face properly.

When Martin looked at the two figures again, the warden was lying on the ground, either unconscious or dead, and Khan was closing the distance between himself and Martin.

“Get up,” he ordered, much in the same tone of voice as the warden, “we need to go.”

“What about Douglas?” Martin asked.

“Forget Douglas, let’s go,” Khan implored him.

“I’m not leaving without Douglas,” Martin insisted.

“Why am I not surprised?” Khan mumbled.

“Martin, go,” Douglas sighed. “As your senior officer, I order you to –”

“No.” Martin shook his head.

“Come on.” Khan gripped Martin’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “Give it to me.” He grabbed the gun. “Move.”

Martin was shoved in the back and had to walk in front of Khan while Khan was scanning their surroundings attentively. It was difficult for Martin to keep up with Khan’s pace, especially since he still couldn’t feel his legs properly and was on the verge of fainting due to dehydration. Khan also noticed this and led Martin to a ditch behind where two cars were parked.

“Sit,” he ordered, and Martin gladly obeyed.

“Drink this.” Khan handed him a small bottle. “But slowly.”

Martin took a tiny sip to find out what Khan had given him and when he realised it was water, he had to restrain himself from gulping down everything at once.

“Are you hurt?” Khan asked, his voice back to the soft, caring tone he had used so often to talk to Martin.

“No,” Martin answered, not wanting to mention the wound at the back of his head, “but Douglas is. We need to go and get him.”

“No, I don’t owe him anything,” Khan said grimly.

“You don’t owe me anything either,” Martin pointed out, “and still, here you are.”

“You saved my life and now I did the same for you,” Khan reminded him. “My debt is paid.”

“We need to talk,” Martin said firmly. “But after you’ve rescued Douglas.”

“No.” Khan looked at the cars. “We can’t use them to escape, we need to get to the helicopter.”

“Go and get Douglas,” Martin said, putting emphasis on every word.

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t,” Khan shrugged. “Look.”

He pointed past the cars at the place where the cage stood. Three guards were standing around it, their weapons ready. Their escape hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Yes, you can,” Martin disagreed. “You managed to rescue me.”

“It was different.” Khan waved his hand dismissively.

“If you won’t do it, I will,” Martin told him. “I’m not leaving Douglas behind.”

“All right,” Khan gave in. “Wait here.”

Khan jumped up and sprinted toward the place, catching one of the guards by surprise and knocking him unconscious with the gun. The next one he shot; Martin couldn’t see where he was hit, but he heard the sound of the gun being fired and saw one of the guards tumble to the ground. The third one was fast enough to fire a shot in Khan’s direction, but he missed and Khan grabbed him by the collar and knocked him unconscious with a headbutt. He turned to the cage and shot at the lock, so the door burst open with a bang and Douglas could slowly crawl out. Leaning on Khan, he moved at the fasted pace possible, but Martin could see it was still too slow for Khan’s taste, who kept glancing around nervously.

They reached Martin in time before the shots alerted any more guards. Now Martin could see Douglas up close, he could see all the bruises covering Douglas’ face, and when Douglas let himself slump to the ground he groaned in pain when he landed on his hand.

“We need to move,” Khan implored them. “This is the worst possible hiding place.”

Martin handed Douglas the bottle of water. “How did you get here?” he asked.

“By foot,” Khan told him. “Down!”

All three flung themselves to the ground, so they were lying flat against it, while two guards scanned their hiding place by shining torches at the cars.

“Let’s move,” Khan hissed.

He crept toward the building where Douglas and Martin had met Blythe and Martin followed him as fast as he could. Douglas made up the rear, nearly unable to walk. When they reached the far end of the building, Khan gestured them to stop.

“There’s the helicopter.” He pointed past the edge of the building.

When Martin glanced around, he saw the helicopter guarded by at least ten people.

“And how are we going to get to it?” he asked Khan.

“I’m going to distract them while you get it,” Khan explained. “I trust you can fly one.”

Martin shook his head.

“I can,” Douglas interjected.

“Get it started and if you have to leave me behind in order to get away safely, don’t hesitate,” Khan instructed them.

Before Martin could disagree with him, he sprinted toward the guards who immediately started to fire at him. Either they were terrible shots or Khan wasn’t bothered by the bullets which hit him, but either way, he punched two of them to the ground before sprinting past the helicopter with five other guards on his tail. This left three guards who were also distracted by watching their colleagues chase Khan toward the buildings at the far end of the village.

“Come on,” Douglas hissed, and dragged himself toward the helicopter.

Martin followed him, keeping an eye on the guards. Luckily, the command building was built in such a way the place where they had been caged was barred from view. They had to watch out for any movement in the direction Khan had sprinted off to.

The three guards left behind were so occupied with watching their colleagues chasing Khan, Martin and Douglas could climb into the helicopter undisturbed. Douglas strapped himself into the pilot’s seat while Martin watched out for Khan.

“We need to leave, Martin,” Douglas told him in a whisper. “They will notice us any moment.”

Martin sighed deeply. “No, we still have time to wait,” he told Douglas.

Douglas was evidently too weak to argue with Martin because he didn’t object. Martin, meanwhile, mentally urged Khan to hurry up. He didn’t want to leave him behind, not after two months of wanting to find him. As soon as they were out of here, he would explain to Khan what had happened between him and Douglas, and it was up to Khan to make the next move.

“What are you doing?”

One of the guards had noticed there was someone inside the helicopter and was pointing her gun at them.

“That’s it.”

Douglas started the motor. The engines weren’t loud enough to drown out the sound of bullets hitting the side of the helicopter. Martin could feel how they were slowly ascending.

“Douglas, wait,” he ordered.

Douglas either didn’t hear him or was ignoring him. Either way, he let the helicopter climb higher and higher until they were so far up even Khan would be unable to reach them. Martin scanned the ground desperately. It didn’t take him long to make out Khan. It looked as if he was kneeling on the ground, his hands raised in defeat, while seven people pointed their guns at him.

“There he is!” Martin shouted, pulling at Douglas’ sleeve.

Douglas let the helicopter hover and peered down.

“We would be dead before we could get him out of there,” Douglas decided. “Let’s go.”

But Martin gripped the controller and made the helicopter descend again. Douglas pushed his hands away but continued their decent. When the people on the ground saw the helicopter coming, they forgot whatever orders they had and took cover. Khan, too, sprinted away from them, but only to be able to work up enough speed to jump into the helicopter without them having to land it. As soon as he was on board, Douglas pulled up and they flew off, the sounds of guns being fired ringing in their ears.

 

They dumped the helicopter outside of Las Vegas in the desert and continued into the city on foot. Khan had been able to convince Douglas this was the best course of action, that it would take Blythe hours, if not days, to find the motel they had checked into. As soon as they reached the city, Khan hailed a taxi and ordered the driver to take them to three different motels before he found one which agreed with what he had in mind. It wasn’t long before they had rented a room.

Douglas was lying on the bed, utterly spent, sleeping. Martin had ordered a bucket of ice and was now pressing ice cubes against the wound at the back of his head, which was throbbing painfully, while slowly sipping from a water bottle. Khan was in the bathroom, removing three bullets from his arm. Martin had offered to help Khan, but Khan had refused by telling him he was able enough to do it on his own.

When Khan finally joined him in the bedroom, he was shirtless and three spots on his left arm were covered in bandages. “Do you know how to get away from here?” he asked Martin while leaning against the doorframe, drying his hands with a towel.

Martin nodded, not trusting his voice. Despite what he had tried to tell himself in the cell, despite being convinced Khan had completely overreacted and running away had been utterly unnecessary, and despite being angry with Khan for it, Martin couldn’t help but stare at Khan awestruck by how beautiful he was.

“Good. I’ll leave in the morning.” Khan went back into the bathroom.

“Why?” Martin demanded to know, jumping up to follow Khan, but feeling dizzy immediately and sinking back onto his chair.

“Do I really have to explain this to you?” Khan asked from the bathroom.

“No,” Martin admitted, “but I have to explain something to you.”

He started to talk about why they had come here, scared Khan was thinking they had been trying to sell him out to Blythe. But before he had gotten far, Khan was back, gesturing Martin to be quiet.

“If you want to talk, let’s not do it here.” He pointed toward Douglas.

After Khan had put on a shirt, they left the room together and went down to the pool, which was deserted. They sat down on two old deck chairs, and Martin continued his story. But Khan interrupted him again.

“I know you weren’t trying to sell me out,” he assured Martin. “I want to know what you were doing there in the first place.”

“We were looking for you.”

“But why?”

“Do I really have to explain it?” Martin asked, echoing Khan.

“Yes,” Khan said stoically.

“You didn’t return any of my calls,” Martin told him, trying not to sound too much like a whiny teenager.

“I could see I wasn’t wanted,” Khan shrugged.

“And how do you interpret me trying to reach you for days?” Martin asked.

“I was better off alone.”

Martin felt physical pain at these words, as if Khan had punched him. “I thought –,” he started.

“Yes, I thought so too,” Khan interrupted him. “I guess we were both wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong,” Martin admitted, lowering his head. “And I don’t think I was, either.”

Khan remained quiet. Martin decided it didn’t matter now; he would tell Khan exactly how he felt, instead of risking to lose him again.

“There was something between us, wasn’t there?”

Khan nodded slowly.

“Why didn’t you let me explain?” Martin asked.

“I asked you, didn’t I? I asked you if you and Douglas were boyfriends.”

“And I told you we weren’t.”

“But why did you kiss him?”

It was so quiet Martin could hear someone cough in one of the rooms.

“I didn’t.”  

“I know what I saw, Martin.”

Martin had forgotten how good it felt to hear Khan say his name.

“Douglas kissed me,” Martin told him. “I didn’t do anything at first because I was so shocked. Didn’t you see me push him away?”

Khan shook his head.

“And you never gave me the chance to explain to you what had happened,” Martin went on. “I ran after you, I tried to reach you, but you were gone.”

“Why is he here?” Khan wanted to know.

“I didn’t talk to him for days,” Martin told him. “Weeks. But he apologised and finally explained to me why he had done it, and he promised to help me find you because he could see how much hurt he had caused me.”

“How much hurt _I_ had caused you, you mean,” Khan corrected him. “Why did he do it?”

Martin wanted to tell Khan it wasn’t his fault, but was thrown off guard by the question.

“He had feelings for me,” Martin admitted, deciding it was best to tell Khan the truth. “I told him I couldn’t reciprocate; he accepted it.”

“And you two suddenly became best friends.”

“No, we decided to work together … well, I decided to work with Douglas to find you faster. He can be useful.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“I wanted to tell you what had happened,” Martin answered. “I didn’t want you to run around, trying to bring down Colonel Blythe all by yourself, behaving recklessly because you thought you had lost me.”

“Do you think I have so little self-control? Do you think because my feelings get hurt a little I’d jump into the next life-threatening situation presenting itself in the hope of getting killed?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Martin backtracked.

“As I’ve said, I’m better off alone,” Khan said coldly. “Yes, I was there to bring down Blythe, but not because _my heart was broken_ ,” Martin couldn’t overhear the disdain in his voice, “but because I spent the last few months preparing for this mission. And, when I get there, I see you and Douglas being locked away and I know Blythe is using you against me, and I know I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of catching me, because I wasn’t careful enough and I fell …” He bit his bottom lip.

Martin looked at him expectantly, his eyes wide.

“But I couldn’t leave you there; you have no idea what Blythe is capable of,” Khan went on. “If anything, you jeopardised a mission which took months to plan, and now I can start all over again. And not only that – Blythe will hunt you and Douglas too, from now on.”

“Why does he want to get to you so badly?” Martin asked.

“He knows I want to bring him down and he’s scared of what I’m capable of.” Khan stood up and walked toward the pool, his hands behind his back. “He knows, should I catch him, AIPF will pardon me.”

“They will?” Martin asked Khan’s back.

“Yes.” Khan took a deep breath. “After, you know … I went to hand myself over.”

“You did what?” Martin exclaimed in shock. “Why did you –?”

“Make an educated guess,” Khan snapped at him.

“But you said –”

“I said I wouldn’t get myself into danger,” Khan shrugged. “But I was tired of running and I decided now that I had been mistaken in you, apparently, I could hand myself over. But they offered me a pardon, should I bring them Blythe. I accepted their offer.”

Martin stood up as well and joined Khan by the side of the pool, keeping his distance.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he blurted out. “I’ve spent the last couple of months trying to find you, so I could explain to you –” His voice broke.

“So you could explain to me what had happened, I know,” Khan sighed.

“No, I mean yes, I mean so I could explain to you that it was all a misunderstanding. There is only one person –”

Khan turned toward him, but kept the distance.

“That if I could choose anyone to be with, I would choose you,” Martin said quickly, staring at the ground.

He could hear Khan stepping closer to him.

“I’m sorry, Martin,” he heard Khan’s deep voice close to him. “But I think we had our chance and we messed it up. I can’t say yes, I’m sorry, it’s too dangerous.”

“I know,” Martin sighed, looking up to find Khan standing in front of him. “I didn’t expect you to say yes, I just thought you should know that I’m in love with you.”


End file.
